A Balm for my current Malady

Braided Cable Fingerless Gloves.  A respite from a busy day.

Sometimes all I want to do is sit and knit. My hands start to itch at work when there is too much to do and too many voices and I am starting to feel a bit grumpy. At these times, I can best be treated with a small dose of knitting.



Yes, knitting is my prescription for grumpiness. Variations in strength and specific directions are needed for different emotional conditions. Now,  if I am feeling blue, its best if I knit in the round and do a straight stockinette. When agitated, I am better with a simple lace, not too much of a challenge but enough to be a little diverting, just enough to take the edge off. But there are other times, when I am desprate for a respite and some balm of comfort is desperately sought.  Its at these times I want a substantive, detailed piece of work to feed my spirit and calm my nerves. A good cabled piece is good for this. Perhaps a sweater project. using a very soft yarn, like a merino silk blend or a Katmandu tweed (Cashmere blend)

With boredom, comes the need for a more challenging course of treatment. Normally a definitive prescription when a sense of accomplishment is the objective. . That’s when I bring out the Lace chart, stitch markers, and lifelines. I prepare myself for a challenge in making the puzzle come together with a pattern becoming ingrained in my brains synapses. A rhythm starts to be first indentified, then made normal, then become so secondary that my fingers know its course, even if my brain decides to go elsewhere for the duration.

Its for these reason, I argue, there are normally 4-6 projects on the needles waiting for whatever state I am. I can face the stash cabinet, looking for just the right ministration to soothe and calm and steady myself. My stash closet acts as a medicine chest, a treasured one with tried and true tonics within either colorful or neutral, rough or strong, or soft or crisp.

A Traveling Sweater ... but the end of the road is illusive.

Traveling Down a Long Grey Highway - a knitted Woobu one

The Designer, Karen Alfke, said it (the pattern) is called Traveling Sweater because, like the pants of "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants", this sweater looks good on all who wear it.  However, I think its because by the time you complete the horizontal 2ft wide, 8 ft long strip which makes up the bulk of the item, it feels like one has travelled a very long road before finding its completion.  Since the color of my version resembles the gray asphalt of the street this metaphor is visually reinforced.

A great piece of cloth has resulted from this very marvelous yarn (Woobu) and pattern from Blue Moon FiberArts.  A tad of knitting was also involved in the transformation from skein, to gray strip to what I hope will become a sweater I will wear and appreciate on cool nights. The raw material is wrapped around me in the photo above.  I was most pleased.

But I have to resort to copying the picture of the completed sample created for the RAVELRY website because although I loved knitting the project, I have not yet spent time to actually complete seaming the pieces together so that it can be worn and I can't proudly model the sweater myself.

And this fact brings me to the dilemma of the kind of knitter I am and what it may or may not reveal about me as a person.

I love to knit and I knit often.  I like the feel of the knitting in my hands.  I love going to yarn stores, and enjoy talking about it and sometimes I write about it. I feel it settles me, keeps me centered and calm. But only about a third of my knitting results in products. And to a disturbing extent, given how much effort and resources are spent in this activity, I am ok with the lack of results.  I am reaching for the lesson this fact is supposed to teach me.

I would like a few more completed, knitted items.
This lesson will be continued.....

Walking through it

I walk home from work some or all the way most days during the milder months. I live about 7 miles from work in downtown Portland so when I walk the whole distance its a pretty good stretch of the legs.  There have been years when I could only manage a few blocks and would bus the rest of the way, and there were several years when I walked almost every weekday the entire seven miles. While this year I haven't walked as far nor as often as I would like, I still have walked a portion of the distance most days.  Whether I go a few blocks, a mile, or the whole distance I enjoy the changing of the seasons, and the changes I discover in me as I discover the moments of autumn or spring at dusk and early evening to be worth the walk.

My Brother visited me a couple of weeks ago in the hopes of seeing the Fall colors.  But in October the colors were just starting to form.  Now, at their peak, I keep getting distracted and want to caputure the colors to show him.  Alas, in two dimensions most of the awesome detail is missing.  Too bad one  can't hear the special sound of the breese through these trees or see the squirrels bustling around hurriedly hiding and burying as much as possible before the weather turns cold and wintry.

The longer the walk, the more I am able to mellow the edges of the day's jaggedness. As my pulse quickens and my breath deepens my view of the world expands beyond the limited scope of the days ups and downs.   Sometimes I start by willing myself to just place one foot in front of the other. Past experience has taught me that no matter how much I may be hurting when I start to walk, by the time I complete it the pain in my body will be back in its proper perspective. So I feel the ground under one foot and then another, with a quickening pace as my muscles start to lengthen and my thoughts start to sharpen.  I smell various meals being prepared by neighbors, and the perspective of my day widens. With a surety I allow comfort to wash over me provided with courtesy by gratitude.  Gratitude for whatever force or Higher Power that has made this moment, this frozen moment in time, possible.  I walk in the door of home, the warmth of the room touches me and I know that at least right now, in this place, at this time, everything is just fine. All it took was a little walk.  

Blog Interrupted

There are times when I look up after a spell of doing not much and with a start,  I realize I have been going through the motions.  Most of the time I work at making the most of life, but this past six months has NOT been part of my best work.  Odd , since I aspire to the tombstone that reads :SHE ALWAYS SHOWED UP to discover that its showing up that I am failing at right now.

There are intervals when I fail to appear, when I  fail to arrive fully into the potential God has provided.
So here, now with this blog which will wander through the cyberspace attaching itself to kindred braincells,  I offer this post as a way to commemorate  putting a foot in front of the other as I walk back into my life's lliving room.

Its not that I havent tried. Here are the titles of unfinished blogs from the past several months; amazing what they reveal
1.     Its All About learning to Let Go Really, Really Well
2     What advise would you give yourself at age 15?
3     My peculiar version of healthy living OR DETOXing my way
4      UNTITLED Masterpiece
5     A 30 year Survival award - Consolation Prize

Did not finish them.
_________________________________________________________________________

Its beginning to look like fall again, I glance around and realize its pretty good stuff, this life.  Maybe I'll jump in for a bit, walk along the road and kick a few leaves.

(Knitting wise, I have produced 4 almost finished sweaters. I knit vociferously.
 Just call me Madame Lana Lafarge (adapted from "A Tale of Two Cities")

Lana
10/3/2010

Its the Little Things

I had a clue today would be a good day when a few things fell in place just right this morning. There were enough to make a list:


1) My shoes AND bra were right where I first looked for them. This may not be the situation in your home but (I should be ashamed to admit) in mine it isn’t commonplace.


2) The dog didn’t bark loudly at the teasing squirrels at 5:00 am causing neighbors to shun me when going outside

3) The bird cooperated when I went to put her back in her cage. No screaming (the birds)and no blood (mine).

4) The garbage truck was late, giving me time to be decently dressed before making a dash out with the garbage and recycling containers. Not to mention an angry neighbor was not present (about the barking)

5) Driving into work I hit all the green lights and missed the construction crews.


6) Once in my building, the elevator went STRAIGHT up to my 11th floor. The security guard and metal detector…not a problem.


7) Instead of the meeting with an angry architect I thought was my first appointment, there was a birthday event for a staff person with delightful fresh fruit and homebaked poppy seed muffins.


8) The sun just came out and my to do list looks do-able.

9) ITS FRIDAY


I am expecting a VERY good day

A few of my Favorite THings?

Remember the Song  in the "Sound of Music?"  Here are Julie Andrews new words to the song which she coined to commemorate her 69th birthday and a reunion of the movie's cast.

A Few of My Favorite Things

Maalox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favourite things.
Cadillac's and cataracts, and hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favourite things..
When the pipes leak, When the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favourite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.
Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favourite things.
Back pains, confused brains, and no need for sinnin',
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short, shrunken frames,
When we remember our favourite things.
When the joints ache, When the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Overdo or Do Not at All? Are those my only choices?

Some have called it a fatal flaw, and others commend stamina and focus. Whether its a vice or a virtue is dependent on my current obsession. I can only evaluate the respective merit of my obsessions by their outcomes. For example, completing marathons was "good"---I became physically healthy. Drinking every night for 10 years was an addiction,---it caused me and loved ones pain. I do neither of those things now.

Although I value moderation and balance I seldom practice it. Or, conversely I practice it to such an extent I can behave obsessively balanced. Something like the "Fiddler on the Roof" constantly saying "on the other hand" I try to see the other perspective. Done in excess, keeping one's mind open like that limits one's ability to make a decision. That particular trait, when I venture into it, tends to fade in favor of a firmly held opinion. I am known to be a tad opinionated. Sorry to all I have offended. But I digress from my point.

The past few years I have been knitting, knitting with the same passion I once walked marathons and hiked mountains. Or the same passion I once volunteered for... well, way too many things. Unfortunately, current obsessions, like knitting, have meant that I have turned rather slug-like....slow, unhealthy and overweight. Knitting isn't the reason for this turn of events, its the doing of it instead of doing all those things that once enriched my life.

Now I want to strike out in a new direction. I don't know what direction I will next select and I lack a compass. Though I don't know where to point my foot, I am certain about what I want from the new track. I want deep breaths, laughter, and love, and fresh air, and color, and smooth movement. I want to feel good about the choices I make and the relationships with those I love. I want to know that each action and each decision I make is in the direction of making it better for others. I want and I choose.. a full healthy life.

Bit by bit, little by little, in the years left to me, I will try to build that life. First step. Cleanse my self of all that is not helping me to live well.

Perhaps its time to find balance.

I am still going to knit.

Duty, Privilege and Honor

"every right implies a responsibility; every opportunity, an obligation; every possession, a duty"- John D.Rockefeller Jr

In casual social circles these words are no longer commonly heard or uttered. If one does use these words, the folks standing around are apt to stand a little stiffer and mutter a platitude, others may shuffle uncomfortably.

I have almost completed thirty days of jury duty. We, a grand jury of seven, have completed the review and assessment of 130 major person-to-person felonies.We voted to indict most of them after hearing the evidence, watching the videos, examining the pictures, and questioning witnesses and victims. These cases included a tragic and appalling number of child sex abuse and pornography crimes, aggravated assaults, and severe examples of habitual domestic violence. These were in addition to several armed robberies, home invasions, and one officer involved killing. In spite of the rawness and sickening graphic-ness of these cases, the victims and the witnesses; I have been left in awe. I find myself wanting to wax poetic with these words--- duty, honor, and privilege . A few times I've expressed, or tried to, the depth and extent of my pride in our system, in our police force, and in our citizenry choosing to participate in this intense experience.

Maybe its because my attempts at sharing my experience have been clumsy. Perhaps my friends and family are uncomfortable with these topics as being just too painful. The cases are decided and details aren't to be shared, but I find the reticence I've seen in many to hear about the world around us unfortunate and troubling. Most of the people I talk with admit to watching programs which include stories similar in character to those reviewed by the grand jury, "Law and Order", and "CSI" among others present these stories as entertainment and are popular in prime time. But few want to hear abut these stories in their true setting, without a crisp and final solution at its end. Many have informed me of their efforts to avoid jury duty by deferring or making excuses to avoid serving if called.

It is true. The victims, and the offenders, flaunt pain and evil making it difficult to sleep some nights. However, the existence of the evil horrific images not created by TV directors reveal more than their own evil.

There is another way to look at this real world though. In this gritty world we live, evil and pain provide nourishment for profound acts of kindness, as well. The pain clearly present in the thirteen year old hooker confessing her two years on the streets, or the woman kept in violent dehumanizing bondage for seven years, was softened by concerned police, compassionate volunteers, social services staff, and courageous witnesses and involved bystanders. The District Attorneys work with deliberate commitment to our system of justice, practice a personal discipline in efforts to balance their lives with beauty. One assistant DA paints beautiful pictures, another revels in his children. While working, the 80 assistance district attorneys working in Multnomah County of Oregon relentlessly pursue justice, but they also treat the victims with compassion and with respect. They exercise this compassion although they have no illusions and freely accept the clay in the feet of those they interview. Then there are the volunteers working for CHIERS to provide warmth and comfort to the homeless, mentally ill and chronically sick with alcoholism, addiction, and desperation.

I think we feel uncomfortable when confronted with the evil in our world for many reasons beyond the ugliness of the images. We feel humbled by the huge scope of evil so far beyond the ability of isolated individuals to rectify.

In spite of the ugly horror of the crimes I learned about, or the apathy and reticence of many average citizens I was also impressed by so many. In those halls of justice God's Grace is vibrantly revealed as well as our shame. The shame we as members of the community should feel when confronted with the palpable evil we have allowed to proliferate.

POSTSCRIPT O by the way, during jury duty one can get a great deal of knitting accomplished. Completed one pair or socks, one triangle scarf and 1/2 of a Central Park Hoodie Cardigan.

Maybe not Gold, but at least a bronze

Halfway through the Olympic sweater project, I realized I had lost gauge and the lovely cable sweater would not fit any known person in my family. Too small. Hours of work, I was too disheartened to frog it right away so its languishing in the knitting basket until I am steeled enough to tear it out and start again.

But with 10 days remaining to the Olympics, I decided to pick up the size three circulars, that lovely Sidar green baby bamboo yarn and knit up a lace shawl to replace the Rhianna(sp?) lost on a bus.

Since I have previously completed two projects using this pattern, the only challenge was in getting the task done on time. And this wasn't my declared Olympic project. I do not believe I deserve a gold. So I declare this .. ISHBEL III as a Bronze medal shawl.

Perhaps for the World Championship or the next Olympic event I will take on a Bohus sweater and really challenge myself....It will take four years to be ready for THAT goal.

Etymology of " Sweater"

This sweater is what I call a crunchy cable-- warm, grey but Steve says it has a "girly" collar.

"woolen vest or jersey, originally worn in rowing," 1882, from earlier sweaters "clothing worn to produce sweating and reduce weight" (1828), from sweat (v.). As a fashion garment, attested from 1925. Sweater girl is attested from 1940; Lana Turner (1920-95) was the first, from her appearance in the film "They Won't Forget" (1937).

I am knitting a second sweater, another cable, because...well... not certain why. I checked the online Etymology resource, looking for some inspiration to help explain the why. Perhaps I will select the 1828 reference and say its a clothing item to help me lose weight through sweating. This idea will do as well as any other. The truth is I tired of fiddling with lace and wanted to try my fingers with cables.

After hours of looking for a pattern I could use easily convert for knitting in the round, I opted for just knitting it up with the EZ method and using a saddle shoulder on one, and set in sleeves for the other. The cables are 6 stitch cables with 6 rows between back twists, framed with 2 purl stitches and a six stitch stockinette. Its a simple and satisfying project. The first sweater I made for husband in a single ply natural Aran weight wool, the second is in a natural Suffolk wool but DK weight.

The second sweater is my Olympic project. The goal is to complete it by the end of the closing ceremonies of the Olympics. Success will likely depend on a few sleepless nights and the reasons for this sacrifice seems a tad illusive. I think it has to do with seeking community. A couple thousand knitters internationally are engaged in Olympic efforts of knitting through an online challenge issued annually by the famous YARN HARLOT There is really no rational explanation for it. But why not?

Pictures to follow.

Sweeping away the dust & debris of 2009

I don't like to allow the dust and dirt of one year trouble the new one, so I have evolved a personal tradition of spending New Years Day cleaning and de-cluttering. I have a prioritized list, in fact. Included in the list (its grown over the years): cleaning out the freezer and fridge, putting away all vestiges of the Christmas season (yes, the lights are tested and labelled), bleaching all sinks and tubs, organizing and decluttering closets (clothes, coat, and linen). Calling my brother.

In one or the other of my personal self-improvement phases ( a 12 step program was involved) I deepened the tradition to include an emotional sweeping. I try to ensure that any regret or resentment is resolved or steps identified for getting them resolved. This is an ideal that I admit is never fully actualized, but I try.

This year things seem inordinately messy. There are more items to sort, the closets have become more cluttered, even the freezer seems out of control. I think what may be more disconcerting is the realization that my emotional clutter is extensive. I haven't kept in touch with good friends and I have relatives with whom I am estranged.

I am resolved. I will take a deep breath, plug in my ipod for rhythm, ponder the amends I intend to make with friends, pick up my broom and get started.