Spring is here

in Michigan, and in knitting, and that means a few things.

1. Green Rowan Summer Tweed from my secret pal. Thanks so much! I think that I'm going to make some kind of shrug with it- it's SO SOFT, and it came with a sweet poem which is sensitive to my sensitive skin. :)

2. Tubey progress. If I weren't from Michigan, I would think that it's daft to work on a wool sweater in March (and April), but the weather isn't going to be consistent, so my lack of seasonality is moot.

3. Cute new shoes (see above).

4. Bad allergies. I have a patch of red grossness above my left eye, and I feel like a leper. Damn my sensitive skin. I've been doing a lot of house cleaning, and the dust is probably an accomplice.

5. Wanderlust. I am so tired of the drama at Cariera's. I can't wait to go work for Ric and Koshi!

That's it- you're going in the closet.

So, while the silk sari yarn is beautiful, it has a tendency to snap at crucial moments- a trait I have never before experienced in yarn. After three of the four working strands snapped on my current project, I dumped the box of yarn back into the closet. It's beautiful yarn, but I deserve better treatment than that!

So, instead, I pulled out a ball of Mission Falls to knit a swatch from Tubey. Sadly, my size 7 tips for the NeedleMaster are missing, so I pulled out the size 6 and cast on. The gauge is 20/24, and I'm a loose knitter, so I thought I'd be close. Right? Nope. Waaaaaay too big. It was more like 16. So I frogged it and cast on with size 5 needles. So I've dropped three sizes, and the fabric is a lot stiffer, but I almost achieved gauge. It's about 18.5, and I've decided to live with it. But, really, size 5? Am I really that loose, or are the ball bands- and patterns-lying to me? What happens when I want to knit a sock? The needles only get so small!

Crap-otis

Well, I finished the afghan for Grammies. I'll take a few pictures once I weave in the ends. I am glad that the project is over, because it was no longer portable in any way- it couldn't be contained by my messenger bag, which incidentally, is a terrible knitting bag because of the velcro.

So, I took a look around at my reorganized craft room and dug out a WIP that I could fit in my bag and take with me to Mt. Pleasant. Last year, Holly got me some sari silk yarn for helping out with her wedding, and in my own pre-wedding, post-directorial delirium, I decided that it would make a lovely clapotis.

Well, it didn't, and I have frogged what I did accomplish and have begun a project more suited to the yarn. Something that won't be up against my sensitive skin all the time, tickling me.

Of course, I couldn't just make the damn bag, I had to cast on for all four sections at once. Sometimes I infuriate myself. At least the yarn tangles are teaching me a little more patience.

And we're back

for a couple of days before the haul to Mt. Pleasant. I am not looking as forward to that trip, but it's good to visit with the in-laws.

Chicago was fun. It was a lot of riding on the red line, and a lot of sitting on the tracks, waiting for a train to pass. Thank you, construction. Dan was entirely surprised at dinner, despite the fact that we were a whopping 45 minutes late for our reservation (I didn't want to arrive ahead of the other guests, and some were running quite late). The hostess almost blew the cover by exclaiming that we must be with the big party, but thankfully the restaurant was loud enough that Dan didn't quite hear her. The food was good, and they even brought out a stack of chocolate cheesecake slices inscribed with a birthday message. It was a nice touch.

St. Patrick's Day was a good time. We started the day with brunch at the Chicago Diner, and enjoyed some of their amazing mangoritas.

Then it was a lot of walking and riding around. We went to a couple yarn shops. First was Arcadia Knitting, which was organized with yarns grouped by color. It was pretty to see, but in reality I was not pleased with having to ask if they had certain yarns in other colors. I like to shop independently. True to my word, I bought Mike some Clover single points and two skeins of Lamb's Pride bulky, and he's going to make himself a scarf. Tracy wanted some Lorna's Laces, and so I sprung for a skein of sport weight in pinks and aquas. She has promised to sit down and learn how to make a hat. The $30 I spent on the two of them will pay a hefty return when they learn to make their own garments and stop begging my precious time! :)

From there we went downtown to Loopy Yarns, where I expanded my own stash with a little Cashsoft 4-ply, which I intended to use for Odessa. Sadly, I actually needed the DK weight, and so I think I'll use this ball for the Endpaper Mitts instead.

I also picked up a ball of Fleece Artist sock yarn in ebony. In the store it reminded me of a particular Colinette colorway, but in natural light I see that the grays are a little cooler. I still love it, but it might get a lavender overdye some day. I love the look of purple and brown together.

We tried to see 300 at the IMAX but it was a bust, so we went back to the hotel and eventually to dinner. We took the eternal red line ride up to Mike's friend's house with the intention of going out, but Dan's old bones (and liver) couldn't handle a whole day of drinking and walking around, so we made an early night of it instead.

Sunday we went to Shedd, and had a lovely time. We spent almost 4 hours in the aquarium. I loved watching the penguins and the beluga whale family- baby and all. There were children everywhere, and I watched them as much as I did the animals. A little boy approached me and entreated me, in a language that I could not recognize (yes, me, a linguist. so what?) to help him locate the gecko that was hiding in one of the enclosures. Thankfully his father bailed me out before the child asked me questions that required more than pointing for an answer. How cute.

Dan did the driving home after I navigated us out of the city, and we slept hard last night. There is something to be said for sleeping in one's own bed.

Hello, weekend!

In a few hours, Dan and I will be leaving for Chicago for a weekend of green beer (for me) and birthday/end of semester fun (that's for Dan). Because he doesn't read the blog, I can spill the beans: it's a surprise birthday party! He thinks it's just the two of us for the weekend, but what he doesn't know is that when we arrive at dinner, we will have an entourage of friends and well-wishers waiting for us. I don't think I've spilled the beans (I have been planning this since December), but if I have, he damn well better act surprised.

I'm taking not one, but two WIPs with me. Expect progress shots from the Windy City!

Happy Birthday, Dan!

I love you, I am proud of you, and I am glad to be with you. You've accomplished a lot in that 30th year- you got married, you went back to school, you got a promotion at work. Not too shabby! Here's to you, honey, and I look forward to sweeping you off your feet in Chicago this weekend.

Dan: King of All Cosmos

You never know where the day will take you

Sometimes the day takes you to a place where you're getting drunk in a gallery of priceless art.

Interpride went really well on Saturday. Mike and I arrived for breakfast, and then took a little rest in Kim and Steph's room (who are back together and making it work and I love it). We made some copies. At lunch Mike nearly got killed by a chicken salad sandwich the contained covert pistachios, but a gallon of water saved him. I was really grossed out by vegetarian tomato soup that was actually seafood tomato soup. Yuck. Fortunately I didn't bite into anything that was obviously seafood, and I only ate about a third of the cup before I was informed. Damn you, Doubletree Dearborn, for not having a fucking grasp on what you're serving.

Our presentation went really well. Nineteen of 20 reviews were good, but someone left us a snarky little review. We spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out who the harridan was, but we never figured it out. Ah, well.

Then we were off to Park West for dinner, which was delicious. And, oh, the free beer! And the priceless art- Dali, Picasso, Toulouse Latrec, Rembrandt! It was awesome.

We weren't actually registered for the conference, but because Mike and I are the Nicole Ritchie and Paris Hilton of Triangle, we got into Comedyfest and saw some good stand-up. Sabrina Matthews, in particular, was hysterical.

In fiber-related news, my Secret Pal sent me an e-card. How sweet! Thanks!

I have a bottle of wine, some Grafton cheddar, and a tub of olives

because I got a call from the advisor of the linguistics department at Wayne State.

I'm in! She told me the paperwork is just a formality at this point. Go me!

She called, in fact, because my academic record was so good that she wanted to know why I didn't apply directly to a PhD program at another (better) school. I told her about my situation with Dan in school, and that I want to meet and work with as many people in the field as I can. It's a networking opportunity, really. She said it was a wise decision, and it was hard not to emit a squee over the phone. I am going to give her a call in the next couple weeks and see if I can't go down to the office and meet some folks and learn more about the program. Apparently, there have been quite a few grads from the program that have gone on to some of the best schools in the country.

Sadly, she doesn't control my scholarship, but if her enthusiasm was any indication, I should be getting something from the school.

Quirkiness, sadness

So, I'm into the fourth ball of yarn for the blanket. I'm about 70% done at this point. It is kind of tedious, knitting a rectangle, and each time I tell myself it will be fun, and it is, but it's not exciting. I like how it's looking, and I am sure the recipient will adore it.

I love soda water. Love it. It's one of those things about me, I guess. I prefer carbonated beverages, and as a result, I drink a lot of pop (boo!). I prefer soda water, however, and it really grosses out some of my coworkers who see me spraying it out of the pop gun.

Speaking of food quirks, like my food at room temperature. I have never sent food back at a restaurant because it was kind of cold, because that's how I actually want it. I would never tell someone that, though, for fear of getting something that died a slow death in the window.

Dan claims to have no quirks, and I agree. It's more that he has a lateral perception of the world that is an act of volition rather than a confluence of weird habits.

He thought it was a compliment.

Gramma Mae is home now. Dad is off work, and Uncle Dan flew in from California to be with her. Were all just waiting, now. I can't help but think of the time I snapped at her because she tried to feed me (again) right after we had dinner. I feel so guilty, but it's the only time I can remember where I think I hurt her feelings. And that moment has shaped me as an adult, and gives me patience when I would otherwise have none.

I'd much rather remember the day I married Dan, the day we surprised her with a birthday cake. The cake she thought was a prize for the funniest hat.

I can't believe it's wool.

So, contrary to my usual yarn buying MO, which is to stalk around the yarn shop three or four times in a couple of weeks, squeezing hanks and doing the dances of yes-I-want-it and well-maybe-not, I made an impulse buy. On the Internet. I think knitting is too expensive for me (it's isn't really) and so I am always looking for a deal. And I found one:

This is just one of the 12 or so (500g) mill end balls of Mission Falls 1824 Wool that I picked up. I haven't knit anything with it yet, but the ball squeezing test was an A+. It's so soft, and it shines in daylight. It doesn't feel like wool on my skin (and it doesn't produce the near instant rash that I'm used to). I will still probably have to wear a long sleeved shirt underneath the sweater, or perhaps put patches on the inside elbows, but I think this yarn will make a damn fine Tubey.

In other news, the craft room is taking shape. My needles have been moved off the bookshelf in the front room and onto my work table. I only have one window, but it seems to let in the right amount of light- the rest of the house is a cave. I wish I could go back to 1982 and tell my dad to add some more windows! Oh, well. It's okay in the summer when we can leave the doors open.