54 in 3

I wish that "54 in 3" was a special knitting term, but unfortunately, the only way that it's linked to knitting is that it is exactly what KEPT me from really doing any knitting this week.




"54 in 3" refers to the fact that this here pile of papers was the 54 Grade 11 essays that I marked in 3 days.... 3 days where I still taught three classes a day, ran an English department and commuted a total of 100 kms per day to get to/ from my job. I'm not bragging, I'm just amazed that I managed to pull it off. It's not like I was facing an external deadline, it was more of an internal deadline that sounded something like, "I have to finish those essays this week because if I trip over this pile of papers one more time, I'm sure to break my neck." That, and the fact that if one more student implied I should have marked the essays over March Break because I "had the time" (unlike having a holiday like the rest of the damn province), I was sure to break their neck instead of my own.


And I wish I could say that the "muted lighting" and "interesting angles and shadows" of this picture were due to some artistic finagling (sp?) on my part, but the reality is, it's muted because it was 6:10 a.m. and I had been up since 5 to finish marking and it's an interesting angle because I was sitting on the floor getting organized and didn't have the energy to stand up and take the picture from another perspective. All the same, I'm happy that the general mood of what the picture turned out to be is exactly the way I was feeling - shadowy and crooked!




All the same, last night while I was trying to slog through those last few papers, I decided I would treat myself to some knitting along the way (mark 3 essays, knit 3 rows). Something simple, something mindless, yet something workable.... so out came the MDK Log Cabin baby blanket. Voila:


It really doesn't look any different than the last time I posted it because I'm still on the fourth block, but it was still a nice diversion from the somewhat mindless, yet endlessly frustrating, task of marking Grade 11 essays.

Besides, the Argosy scarf has been officially renamed "ARGHHHH-osy" because I had to frog it yet again. And as much as I love that scarf, I can't be bothered to knit something so frustrating at the same time that I'm trying to restrain myself from picking out my eyeballs because yet another student wrote a sentence like, "Homework is so retarded and teachers should stop assigning it because I have enough going on in my life, like, work and stuff."


You might think I'm joking about picking out my eyeballs, but when there are 2.5 mm double pointed needles within arm's reach and I've just read the 50th comma splice in a row on page 3 of a six page essay, the necessity of eyeballs really becomes a debatable point.

And as much as I will circle those errors and indicate how to fix them, it's not like any student is going to take my feedback seriously, or really make an effort to take my feedback and apply it to the next assignment. I'm sorry, they just won't, because today's students believe that if they do so much as put a freaking "x" in the top right hand corner of a blank sheet of paper, then it is my job to "give" them 100% because they "made an honest effort to do the work." News flash: poor quality work earns a poor mark, I don't care how much effort you put into that stupid "x" that's in the corner of the paper. If you didn't do what I asked you to do and you made up new rules for the assignment, well, you get what you deserve: a crappy ass mark.


Returning marked assignments is, by far, the most stressful part of my job. ON ANY GIVEN DAY, I will take the kid who tells me to f**k off over the kid who earned 65% but who thinks that everything he/she does is worth 90%. This sense of entitlement with which our students cloak themselves eats away at any kind of positivity you might attempt to instill in the classroom. Gone are the days when a bad mark meant that you had to work hard the next time, or just meant that it was time to work hard, period. Students want good marks for a minimal amount of poor quality work. How is this logical... or even fair?


ARGH... I think it's time to hide the 2.5 mm dpns.

this stuff puts the "wee" in weekend

I feel like Gulliver in the land of the Lilliputians.

To set the stage for this here rant: On Friday (last day of March Break, weep weep), I took a little romp in the new wheels out to Orleans to check out a new yarn store - Wool n' Things. I even did some advance research and planning before I went out there so that I knew what I wanted to buy. I wanted: a baby sweater pattern, some baby yarn (maybe Debbie Bliss or Rowan), and a yarn for the Argosy scarf that I've wanted to knit for a while.

Instead, I came home with:
- 3 balls of sock yarn
- 1 set of 2.5 mm dpns
- one Addi turbo circular needle - 3 mm
- 3 skeins of Debbie Bliss baby cashmerino
- one book of Debbie Bliss baby patterns
- 1 skein of Hand Maiden camel silk

As you can see, I did not exactly follow my plan.

But as any kind of "artiste" will tell you (this is how I'm deluding myself these days - by calling myself an artiste; it seems to justify the impulsive shopping and compulsive creating that just seems to happen), there is no plan to the creative process and I can't control the fact that I'm attracted to pretty colors and cute little needles.

This, however, still reinforces the feeling of being Gulliver in the land of the Lilluputians.

Have you knit with 2.5 mm double pointed needles? Have you knit with a fiber so fine that it requires a 3 mm needle? Are you aware that, as a beginner, knitting with little wee needles is not exactly gratifying but more ... shall we say... irritating? I mean, it feels like you're knitting with toothpicks and thread, and you can't tell me you feel like a normal size human when you are constructing something out of toothpicks and thread.

As someone with small hands, I now know what it feels like to be a giant.

So here's what put the "wee" in my weekend.

Socks with "wee" little needles. Note the use of a tape measure to show how small they really are. Here's hoping they'll actually fit me!

And then, the very fine gauge of my Handmaiden silk Argosy scarf - soon meant to be wrapped around my neck in a jaunty fashionable fashion with that certain "je ne sais quoi." However, if I have to frog the stupid thing any more times, it will be wrapped around the inside of a garbage can, and the only thing that keeps me from doing that is the vision of the freaking price tag floating through my head.

Nothing "wee" about my temper, now is there?

Stunned as me what?

Yeah, just in case you're wondering, that IS my butt and that IS exactly where I feel my head has been these past two days. In other words, feeling as "stunned as me arse."





First, you may be asking yourself, "Sweet cracker sandwiches, WHO would dare take a picture like that?" and my answer to you is that the only person who would dare take a picture of my hideously striped butt (note the stripes are curved, not even straight... ha ha!) is the man that I'm going to marry in just under 7 months. Of course, it's my fault for leaving the camera unattended on the seat of the golf cart - ladies, be forewarned - if you leave the camera on the seat and you bend over to put your golf tee in the ground, you can rest assured that somewhere, on someone's digital camera is a picture of your ass. No man can resist that temptation.

My efforts to re-do the bedroom have been seriously thwarted by the tremendous difficulty I had yesterday when I attempted to do ONE simple sewing task: that of adding a band of colour to the top of my current bedroom drapes. Let's just say that I was so exhausted after that debaucle that I have had only ONE bedroom drape for the last 24 hours and I have no desire to make the second one. I didn't even have a desire to pick up some knitting, which is really what this blog is all about. Not that I've written about any knitting lately...





but I will now... after I ask this one question of Lindsay; the real reason that I feel that I'm stunned:





I can't, for the life of me, figure out how to post a comment on your blog. I love your Star of Bethlehem flower, I love the Tiddly Winks quilt (Jane's gonna love it) and I actually wanted to taste one of the Green cookies you posted today. But do you think this program will let me post anything to tell you how much I love your stuff? For the love of God, help me out here, I'm dying.... I'm suffocating with my head up my butt here.


Ha! I couldn't resist that.




So this is what I've decided to pull out of the drawer and work on for a while. It's a lavender colored baby blanket in a really sweet pattern in Bernat "cottontots". I usually choose patterns that are a little more contemporary and straight forward and this is not that - there is more purling in this pattern than there are fish in the sea and that is why I have to frog a few rows when I decide to work on it tonight.

That being said, and to make my "knitballs" blog a little more about what it's supposed to be about, I'll leave you with the image of my striped butt burned into your retinas.
Happy Day, friends!

all you need is a drill

Hey y'all,

There are two people to blame for the title of this post.
1. The Yarn Harlot: for choosing to re-do her master bedroom because she "felt like surprising her husband"while he was gone away for a few days (her progress is documented on her blog this week)... a wee bit of inspiration...

... and...

2. (most importantly) My Dad: who decided very early in my life that I, as his only daughter, was in no way going to get through this life without early exposure to tools, thus resulting in a variety of tool gifts over the years such as a complete set of screwdrivers and this handy dandy cordless drill that you see in this picture.

Unfortunately, the drill languished a little in the basement these past few years (screwdrivers adequately and appropriately worn out, Dad, don't worry) because, quite frankly, I was afraid of it and afraid of using it. I mean, a lot of damage can happen with just one wrong little move of a drill and since I'm someone who can't eat without spilling food on my shirt (thanks Mom), the potential for disaster is apocalyptical when you allow me to be unsupervised and alone with a drill.

It all came to an end a few weeks ago when I finally realized that the cute little chalkboard meant for the kitchen wall was going to meet its maker (the mice chewing on it) in the corner on the floor if I didn't do something about it. I mean, I had been kind of hoping that it would drill itself to the wall, but when was the last time you saw something drill itself to the wall?

On a wing and a prayer, I hooked up the drill, fastened on a bit (the right size, Dad - I did listen to you, you know) and not TWENTY minutes later, there was a chalkboard on the kitchen wall, like this:







I am woman. Hear me roar. Of course, I immediately ran to the door to make sure the world wasn't ending. It didn't (duh).

So, while some might consider this a small and relatively unimportant event in their life, I'm pretty sure that it has changed the trajectory of mine. All of a sudden, a world has opened itself to me: a world of putting up curtains by myself, of putting up shelves, of hanging mirrors, and, OF COURSE, the nadir, nirvana, peak of self-actualization for any woman who has just learned to use a drill....


.... putting together IKEA furniture.

Oh. My. GOD. You know that IKEA commercial where the mother is talking so much about her new IKEA bedroom furniture that her daughter threatens to shave her head if she doesn't shut up and then, in the next scene, the mother is still jabbering on and she's shaving the daughter's hair off? Something of that nature could possibly happen to me. Just so you know, my ability to use a drill has come along with my acquisition of a new car that is a hatchback with a sizeable trunk and seats that fold down. There are innumerable permutations here, people - new car, big trunk, IKEA furniture... !!!!! 100 % Possibilities!!!!

So, over the past two days, I have purchased, transported home, organized, planned and built a new dresser. Well, my sweetheart helped me get started (thank God, because, seriously, the dresser would have been inside out and upside down, but who cares, I got to use the drill).



To finally conclude, we went from this (halfway through because I forgot to take a picture):



... note the prominent placement of the drill...














to this:

And now, I don't know what was more exhausting, writing this post, or actually constructing the dresser. Seriously.

Happy Birthday Nanny!

This is a picture of me, my mom and my Nanny from last summer.

You tell me if you even THINK you're going to look that good at 80.

Yes, 80.

There are many amazing things about my Grandmother that make me very proud to be her oldest grand-daughter. For instance:

1. Nanny had 6 kids - the first borns were triplets and then she went on to have 3 more. Hello - I think that grants you "hero" status right there.


2. Nanny was married for over 55 years to an amazing man - my Pop. We love ya, Pop!


3. Nanny has 12 grandchildren - all of whom she has strived to love and treat fairly since we've all been born. Everyone has the quilt to prove it.


4. Since my Pop died almost two years ago, Nanny has been blessed with 5 great-grandchildren. How many more children can one small little woman be blessed with? Well, let's hope that there are many more to come.


5. Nanny has a secret to great looking hair - it's called a satin pillow case.


6. Nanny never wastes food and the family joke is that she could make a meal for 10 out of a half of a tomato, some bread and a can of tuna (wait, I'm not sure if she even likes tuna, but the point is that she can make a great meal out of practically nothing.)


7. Nanny... like all Nannies and Grandmothers out there... is just super special. I'd have to put aside a trillion days to think of all of the great things about her.

Happy Birthday, Nanny. Hopefully we'll all have a life as full, rewarding and blessed as yours.

And really, hopefully we'll all look as good as you do at 80. Cheers!

pics for Lindsay

these are some posted pics for my dearest cousin Lindsay.... I said I would post... so here they are! To start, all of these pics are WIPs. We start with the baby kimono (in Patons Grace tangelo), then two mitred squares (in Lang Mille Colori) as part of my WIP mitred square blanket from MDK. Below, you will see a three dishcloths (pattern courtesy of my Nanny P) wrapped around Coffee Peppermint Soap from the most divine soap store in the world - Tval in St. John's Nfld. Next to the dishcloths, you'll see my final WIP - the baby log cabin moderne that was referred to a few weeks ago. Much more is done on it now (the fourth colour has been added), but at least you have an idea. A very funny story to come about my very first adventure with knitting a hat. Hilarious!