Campy

I'm sitting here drinking my coffee from my new Starbucks Seattle mug, getting all moony for the Pacific Northwest. (I love the Starbucks city mugs, by the way. They are the perfectly sized cup of coffee for me. I prefer my Jennie the Potter mugs for tea, however. Don't know why I make this distinction.) It's cool and rainy outside, very Seattle-like, though the weather we experienced there last week was unusually spectacular up until departure day.


Of all the things I am missing (the bacon, the bacon, and the bacon), I am missing my camp friends most of all. I have been extremely fortunate to attend lots of fiber events all over the country during the past several years, and I have made friends at all of them. At Sock Camp this year, I saw previous years' camp friends, friends from other events, and new friends who I look forward to seeing again. It was great. (I just found out yesterday that I will likely be travelling to San Francisco in August, so I hope to see some of the SF girls then--what a treat!)

The husband is returning from a business trip this evening. I came home late Tuesday, and he left really early Wednesday morning, so I hadn't even unpacked before he left. There's a little bit of new yarn to put away before I pick him up at the airport tonight ;) We haven't seen each other very much lately, but he did the funniest, sweetest thing while I was in Port Ludlow: he wrote me a camp-themed poem. Camp had a Seussian bent this year (along with the b00bies), and the poem was in reference to a series of really silly Seuss-themed skits produced by the four "tribes" at camp. Enjoy, especially the knitting curse at the end (not that ANY OF US would EVER wish evil on another knitter. Not EVER. No, NEVER!) Anyway, it was a cute and campy thing for him to do, and he clearly has the lingo down.


I hope the knitters liked your skit;
(I hope the skitters like your knit.)
Did it go well, was it a hit?
Did they stand and clap and clap, or sit?
Did people gush, and, then, get lit?
(Was the liquor bill a massive chit?)
Did the sketchers 'gainst whom you were pit
Match up, and give as good as git,
See you pun for pun, and tat for tit?
Did all lap up the crafty wit --
Like cream is lapped up by a kit --
or did some sneeralate and crit,
And pick a nit with ev'ry bit,
And snarkelfize, and give you shit,
Like some insipid royal twit,
whose festering gob just will not quit?

Upon those churls, I lay this curse:

May Quiviut cause you a rash;
May moths invade your treasured stash;

May all your patterns each omit
Important rows you should have knit;

May airlines ban the knitting needle,
No matter how you beg and wheedle;

May yarn crawls all be heavy slogging,
And ev'ry sock require frogging.

No, no, I do not doubt a bit
That all the knitters liked your skit.


PS The Yarn Harlot proclaimed him "sexy" for writing a sock camp-themed poem. Perhaps he should add that honor to his resume.

Come for the B00bs, Stay for the Bacon, Pt. 2

So, the mascot for camp was a Blue Footed B00bie, and from there, it's not hard to see where things spiralled out of control. Homework has always been slapped with the silly stick, and this year was no exception. Our assignment: knit b00bs.

There were big ones, little ones, shy ones, saggy ones, misbehaving ones, Wicked ones, glistening ones, and there were even some manb00bs. There were b00b cupcakes, b00b egg cozies, b00b socks and b00b hats. The most important thing, as Mary pointed out, was that we do our (ahem) level breast. (So clever and funny, that one. I must go buy her book, pronto!)

All-in-all, it was a great time seeing old friends and making new.

In Tina's class, this old friend became......this new one:And this...
...left camp as this:
And these were two new friends who have joined a large family of skeins here at home:
Chalk another year up in the books. Wonder what they'll have in store for 2011...

Come for the B00bs, Stay for the Bacon

I am a couple of days out from my return after Sock Camp, and I am two days into bacon detox. Sock Camp is about many things, not the least of which is food. But I get ahead of myself.

I flew into Seattle a day early for some fun and frivolity with Ana and Leslie, friends from two previous retreats with Cat Bordhi in Friday Harbor. I also know Ana from the Alaska Sea Socks cruise a few years ago. Leslie picked me and Ana up at the airport and we were off, with stops at three yarn shops, a conveyor belt sushi lunch, ice cream at Molly Moon's (I cheated), and a delish coffee at Fuel. Then it was back to the hotel for a break before heading out for more food later. I spent my afternoon walking around the Pike Place Market, with pit stops at the John Fluevog store (it's so itty bitty compared to Chicago), and a lovely wine shop near the market. Then it was back to the Hotel Max. (It was a great deal and perfect for a one-night stay when I wasn't planning on being in the room very much. The hotel is stylish, but the rooms and bathrooms are small, but for the price, it was great.) Japanese was the theme for the day, and that night we dined at Maneki which was simply fantastic and incredibly reasonable. Three of us ate quite well for $40!

The next morning we headed down to The Hangar Cafe by Boeing Field for breakfast crepes. (This trip was rife with cheats for me!) From there, we headed to the ferry and toward Bainbridge Island, home of my absolutely favorite yarn store ever, Churchmouse. Their selection, display, friendliness, and helpfulness never wavers. Some loveliness, including a Habu tunic kit made their way home with me. I also picked up the folio of Churchmouse Classics--gorgeous! From there, it was off to Port Ludlow.

Camp, as ever, defies accurate description. It's silly, inspiring, touching, educational, gut-bustingly funny, exhausting, and fulfilling. I got to have classes with two new (to me) teachers who I would be happy to take class with again in the future. Both Anne Hanson and Sivia Harding were wonderful. Because of Sivia, I am going to be seeking out projects in need of a beaded cast-on, and Anne actually made me want to swatch! A dyeing class with the Depraved Dyer, Tina Newton, and a sock anatomy lesson with Stephanie Pearl-McPhee rounded out the classes.

Part Two to follow, but to tide you over...

...this is the dog who delivers coffee to the Inn.

Dang, People...

Well, it looks like the Weather Pixie down in the lower left corner has skipped town. I would, too, if I were her, because--as I said before--Chicago is a cruel mistress. Today it was almost 70, so I spent nearly the whole afternoon out and about in the neighborhood. It was lovely. But, before I haul out the open-toed shoes (yeah, like that would happen before a major league pedicure appointment), we are scheduled for at least one more snowfall, purportedly this weekend. Dang, people, that is just mean.

So, the other night I was adjusting the ice pack on my shoulder, the hot water bottle on my bicep, and the cat that likes to lie on top of the hot water bottle on my bicep (we aim to redefine "cumbersome" here in this house) when I felt something akin to marbles under my skin. Needless to say, it freaked me out just a bit. When I got to physical therapy today, I asked my therapist about it. "Oh, those, yep, I've been feeling them in there for a few days." Yikes. I have never had a healing process take this long (Monday was my three month "injuverssary"), but I guess I have never been this old before. I'm learning a lot about referral pain. It's like a little poltergeist is scooting around between my neck, shoulder, bicep, tricep, elbow, and even my lower back, playing a really nasty game of hide-and-seek. I am, however, seeing some improvement in my range of motion, so after hitting the wall last week, I am feeling more optimistic. And when I get the bad, stabby pain in my arm, my vision doesn't go black anymore, just a dark indigo blue, and it fades after about 45 seconds, not the full minute or so it was lasting. That's much better!

I am fortunate to have good insurance that is covering most of my expenses, from specialists to x-rays to MRIs to cortisone injections to therapy, but I can't help but think of those who don't have coverage who must suffer horribly from events like mine and much, much worse. It makes me furious when some of our "esteemed" legislators say the words "health care bill" like they the are actually saying "toenail fungus." Yeah, Orange John, I am looking right. at. you. You, too, Cantor. And Bachmann, I see you hiding behind Foxx. Oh, and any senior who, while benefitting from Medicare, speaks of not wanting a healthcare bill shoved down his/her throat, should be ashamed of his/herself. Hypocrisy is not becoming. We gave you Bruce Springsteen for the cover of AARP magazine a few months ago, but we're taking him back. So. There.

Batting Cleanup

There is the tiniest hint of spring in the air, though I know Chicago is just messing with me and there is some big, nasty, brutally bone-chilling cold front just waiting around the corner for the day I leave the house in my cropped workout pants and no socks.

I have vowed to get some semi-completed projects out of the semi stage. I did finally finish the Harmonia's Rings Cowl I started in Friday Harbor in October. Today, with any luck, I will finish the Cardigan with Leaf Ties from Fitted Knits that was started sometime last year. I fear that this sweater will make me look like Titsy McBoobington, but I may wear it anyway. I found a different leaf pattern and used that instead of the one called for in the pattern. (UPDATE: The cardigan is finished and, yes, my new moniker is TMcB. Ah, well.)

Tithe is torturing me. It could not be an easier sweater, though there is some lazy pattern writing involved. (DO NOT just tell me to M1. Tell me which increase you used in the sweater pictured 'cause there are lots of them, and they don't all look the same. And, if you tell me that I am going to continue in pattern, increasing on a in a knit row, but then say to continue increasing every 3 rows, that means there will be an increase on a purl row. Grrrr...It's stuff that I can suss out, but I just think that it's lazy pattern writing/editing. JMHO.)

I have re-started A Little Something. I'm using some Brooks Farm yarn that may be a little too variegated to do the pattern true justice, but I am going to forge ahead. I like the drape that the yarn is producing, and I think it's going to be okay.

I had a happy little moment this morning. I was starting to fear that my Magician's Scarf was lost. I couldn't find it anywhere, and the last time I remember wearing it was on a trip to the west coast. This morning, while digging through the freezer in the basement, I found my scarf! In summer, I had frozen most of my sweaters and knitted accessories because of a *dreaded M-word* scare. (It turned out to be just that, a scare and not a real crisis, but it was a case of better to be safe than sorry. Sometimes a hole is just a hole and not an impending wool-related disaster. Whew.) Anyway, the ziploc with the scarf and a fun little wool hat I bought in New Orleans a few years back had slipped behind a frozen turkey breast and a C0stc0-sized bag of frozen veggies. My heart did a little skip when I found it because I love that scarf so very much.

This shoulder thing is getting really tiresome. I want to take yoga classes, I want to lift wet skeins of yarn out of dyepots, I want to roll over in bed without waking up, I want to put on a bra without getting tears in my eyes, and I want to stop complaining about it. It's been a roller coaster ride of one good day--which leads to false sense of security--followed by a bad day or two. It seems like this is going to be a much longer road than I originally anticipated. Ugh.

Epic Olympic Fail

If there was a gold medal for Olympics coverage watching, I would get it, yes I would. I love, love, love the Olympics, and I may even be a convert to watching NHL hockey in the future as a result. I, however, have failed miserably at knitting. It all began with a fall on the ice on December 15, which resulted in a pretty painful and persistent shoulder injury. I finally decided to deal with it after two months. I got through my first-ever MRI (as a bit of a claustrophobe, I want a medal for that), and am now getting 6 weeks of physical therapy before a decision is made about surgery. Blech. I can still knit, but my concentration isn't there, and I gave up on my Olympic project, Laminaria, almost as soon as I began. (I would still like to knit it before my trip to Estonia in fall.) See you in two years in London, fellow medal seekers.

FOs have been scarce around these parts, but there are Monster Pants.I made these for my friend's nephew (the same one who got the BSJ). I figured that since the kid lives in Scandinavia, he can use some wool pants. And a little boy named Ragnar needs Monster Pants. I love how these turned out (it took some serious fiddling to get the corners of the mouth just so), and the yarn is so fabulously soft. It's Valley Superwash DK from Webs and I will turn to it again for baby knits. Fast and fun, I will knit these more than once.

I did a little UFO assessment, and it is not pretty. There were 3 unfinished vests, 4 unfinished first socks, 2 unfinished sweaters, and 1 unfinished shawlette. Some things got frogged, and some got a reprieve. I really need to keep a lid on that situation going forward.

It's time to line up some knits for warmer weather, which, I hope, is coming. A few of the tanks I made last year are now too big. (Chicamis, I hardly knew ye.) Warm weather is coming, right?

Slush Puddle

Maybe it's the lack of natural daylight, maybe it's the cold temps, but I am running at slow speed these days. We've had a cold winter so far, but only a couple of good snowfalls. Here in the city, things get gray, brown, and, thanks to our canine friends, yellow very quickly, so winter is just not aesthetically pleasing in these parts. It's a challenge to find inspiration. After all, who wants a handpainted yarn called Frozen Mud or Slush Puddle? (Actually, I might go with Slush Puddle...)
There is a BSJ winging its way to Estonia this week. A friend's sister had her first baby a few weeks ago, so I used that as an excuse to make something quick and cute. The baby lives in Sweden, so I hope that the package gets to his uncle in Tallinn and his uncle gets it to him in Sweden before he outgrows it! (It's BMFA STR Medium in Stonewash and Lucy, by the way.)

Speaking of Estonia, I am hoping to visit the country in fall. I've been increasingly fascinated with their knitting history and culture for some time, and I have quickly assembled an impressive library of knitting books and pamphlets, many in Estonian. (Fortunately, their patterns rely heavily on charts rather than the written word, and there are translations for some books available.) When I found out that my Swedish friend now lives in Tallinn, well, the wheels got to turning. I found a group of Irish knitters on Ravelry who are planning an Estonian knitting retreat, and I jumped on the bandwagon. If it all works out, I hope to do the retreat as well as spend a few days with my friend in Tallinn and perhaps hop over the Baltic to Stockholm. (The flights I was looking at stop in Stockholm anyway, so it shouldn't be too hard to manage, I hope.)

I've decided not to go to Blue Moon's Sock Camp this spring. I may come to regret that decision, as I'm already missing some of the friends I know will be there. I suppose I might come to change my mind...

What's coming up? A serious UFO evaluation is in the offing. Serious. And a destash. Good stuff coming to my Ravelry destash page soon. I've got a few weeks before the Olympics and the Opening Ceremony cast-on of my Laminaria, so I hope to fit in a project or two (maybe I should just finish something that's already started!)

Knitting Catch-up

So, there was some knitting. I started a Multnomah Shawl (twice, actually, but I didn't love the first one), but it has stalled.

I made fingerless mitts for my Grandmother for Christmas because she said her hands got cold when she was watching TV or reading. I figured this way she could still turn the pages or use the remote.

My cousin's daughter got a pair of Little Snugs. Not hard to make, but you essentially have to knit them twice as the lining is almost identical to the outside.

They look like a dog's breakfast before felting, but they looked great after. (And don't let people tell you that you can't felt in a front loader. Add some old flip flops or washable sneakers and felt away. My washer has a pause button, and because the water level is actually below the door, I can open it and check in on things mid-cycle. Sure, there are a few drips, so I put an old towel on the floor first.)

I made the first of my 5 Maximus Cowls. My other cousin seems to like getting handknit items for Christmas, so she got a Maximus in the same yarn (Malabrigo Aquarella in the Indy colorway) as the Cat Hat she got last year. Did I take a picture? Um, no.

Three of the remaining cowls were for moi (accessory ho!), and one for my friend, Sandra.

There have been a few other various and sundry items (a hat for a friend, a fraternal twin to that hat which I thought might be too big, so I wear it kinda slouchy myself, etc.) The house is strewn with half-finished first socks, sweater pieces, top-down sweaters that need arms, etc.

I am on a mitten kick at the moment. I have set about collecting mitten patterns from around the world. The mail lady definitely has some questions about the sudden onslaught of packages from Estonia, I'm sure. I don't know what set it off, but it is here to stay for a little while. Right now I've got some Finnish mittens that need to be finished! (Sorry!!!)

The Ambien I took three hours ago still has not kicked in, so I may be off to Internet shoe shop, a common cure for insomnia around these parts...

It's Only Rock and Roll...

So, like I was saying…

Hmm, when I step back, I really step back, yeah? Well, turns out I was having too much fun in October and November to blog, and then December happened, and December is all December-y, and, well, if it isn’t about the holidays, it just isn’t happening.

So, what was all this fun I was talking about? I took a really fun trip to the east coast. I flew into Philly and spent several days visiting my grandparents, my mom, my brother, and my friend, Amy, and her brood. I also met up with some old h.s. friends at a local bar that I had never actually been to back when I lived in PA. On Oct. 14, I drove back down to Philly to see Bruce Springsteen at the second of his final four shows at the now-retired Spectrum. (The only other concert I’d ever been to there was--get this--Barry Manilow when I was 13. Big difference!) It was a great show featuring the entire Darkness on the Edge of Town album. It was fantastic to see him in Philly, which, being right across the river from Jersey, has always claimed Bruce as an honorary son. It was so incredibly loud--the loudest show I have ever been to--and at one point I reached down to feel the tops of my boots vibrating!

The next morning I took Amtrak to NYC to spend two days with my old roommate, Tim, and his partner. I got to see a few other college friends, too, and had a fantastic time. Then it was back on Amtrak to spend a few days with my friend, Adele, and her family. Adele is a designer and artist, and her husband is a theater professor, so you can only imagine how quirkycoolsmart their 7-year-old son is. I love this kid! Among other things, we spent the weekend devising scents for an imaginary candle company that specializes in the scents of Medieval times. I know…weird. And totally so much fun. And, oh, I went to Webs.

October brought a return to the PNW, and yet another reunion of sorts with a h.s. friend. I hadn’t seen my friend Jim in 16 years, and had never met his wife and children. A visit with them to their home in Seattle was a great way to start the week. From there, I traveled up to San Juan Island for my second retreat with Cat Bordhi. This year my friend, Liz, was also there, and a great time was had by all. The Lakedale Resort was beautiful, with lots of paths through the woods to walk and reflect. So many nice people, and, of course, the wonderful Cat leading the way.

I saw The Boss three more times in November: in Milwaukee, Nashville, and the last show of the tour in Buffalo. (I also saw a Bruce Hornsby in a solo show out in the ‘burbs.) Milwaukee was a fantastic show--even the husband had a good time--and the band was in great form. The next morning--I kid you not--I had coffee with members of Megadeth and Slayer (okay, not with so much as adjacent to) who were staying at the same hotel. If you think metal musicians spend their morning coffee time talking about drugs, sex, and rock and roll, you’re wrong; they talk about wanting to lose another 10 lbs., where they can get a pair of jeans tailored, and where the nearest bookstore is. Sorry if that totally blows the illusion. Three days later, my friend, Sandra, and I had GA tix in Nashville. We did the whole afternoon-long lottery process hoping to get into the pit, but it was not to be. We made friends with three young guys from England who had spent all the money they had (and some they didn’t) to come over for the show. While we were all licking our wounds from not getting in the pit, they told us about all the European festivals they went to over the summer. We did our best to not look like scary cougar-types, though their accents were most adorable. Besides, we’re both married and probably old enough to be their mothers. Fate smiled upon us, though, and we not only found a great spot on the floor right behind the pit, but we got to touch Bruce Springsteen. Oh, yeah, my left hand was dripping with Boss sweat. (Some of you may not find that as appealing as I do, but it will go down as a lifetime highlight for me, to be sure.)

By the end of the night, I decided that I wasn’t done living the groupie life, so when I got back to Chicago, I started scoping the secondary market for a Buffalo ticket. On Saturday morning, I got up and packed a bag in anticipation, and reserved a flight to Buffalo for that night. (I had a freebie coming on Southwest, and their supremely awesome cancellation policy meant that I could change my mind up to an hour before the flight was to leave and keep my free ticket.) After watching for a single ticket all morning (and reluctantly ruling out a good one available for $900 and not wanting to sit in the rafters for $300 if I could avoid it), just after noon a great ticket popped up in my location-to-price comfort zone. Now, if you’ve ever bought a ticket on the secondary market the day before a show, you may already understand how this works, but it was crazy to me. The broker calls the ticket holder who confirms the availability of the ticket. The ticket holder then contacts the buyer with details on how to do the pick-up. I flew to Buffalo with the cell phone number of “TixGuy” and a tentative arrangement to call him the day of the show to get the ticket. It was a little nervous making, but in the end, I was able to spot his burgundy sedan, and he recognized my green scarf, and the connection was made. It was an amazingly good show and such a fun time. I know there was at least one fellow Raveler in the crowd as she and I exchanged messages in the Backstreets Board on Ravelry. I also met another Raveler at a bar before the show. I was standing there waiting for my drink and struck up a conversation with a couple at the bar. Turns out she was a knitter from Toronto. (Neither she not I was sporting any knitwear to give us away, so it was a pretty interesting coincidence.)

Um, any knitting happened during all of this? Honestly, not too much, but I will post about that next.

Shark

If there is one thing I know, it's that I've got it pretty good. That being said, everything is relative. (Or caused by one's relatives.) I feel the need to take a break from almost everything right now. Knitting isn't doing it for me, and there have been some goings-on over at Ravelry that I have found to be downright upsetting. ("Stay away from the non-knitting threads, stay away from the non-knitting threads," I remind myself. "People aren't always 'excellent to one another.'" Hell, I'm not even involved in any of it and I'm bothered.) A spate of family house guests means things can get complicated, especially when, in the past, things have been complicated. Trips down memory lane sometimes have sharp drop-offs on the side of the road, and one must proceed with caution. Reunions with old friends are full of nostalgia, joy, laughter, and longing and regret over time wasted and missed opportunities. Specifically, my recently deceased friend's absence from the reunion was much harder to deal with than I'd imagined it would be given that I hadn't seen him in 15 years. There was something missing that night that couldn't be found, fixed, or replaced with anything or anyone else. I'm pretty good with the mortality thing when it comes to aging relatives, and I have a number of them who, thankfully, have been around a long time. That also means, however, that the next several years will be spattered with funerals and all of the things that go with them. I feel pretty well prepped for that, but I'm not as adept at dealing with "premature" departures. And, really, who is? Daily walks to the beach with Bonnie Raitt on the iPod are helping, and I don't care if people think I'm nuts because I'm singing along. And, because I am prone to playing certain songs over and over, I try to keep moving...like a shark. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.

Make My Day

It's been quiet here, and I freely admit to some post-Summit and post-reunion letdown. (If you had told me that I would actually enjoy my 25th h.s. reunion, I wouldn't have believed it, but I really did.) I've been trying a few things to shake the cobwebs out of my head like playing my favorite songs really loud and singing along even louder (much to the neighbors' dismay, I'm guessing) and taking walks to the lake, but I'm still in a bit of a funk. But today, this helped. My skull rock made it onto Skull-a-Day.

Lagniappe (A Little Extra)

The husband and I scheduled an extra day in Portland after the Summit to do some more sightseeing. We decided to rent a car and drive to Newport down on the coast. After fueling stops at Stumptown Coffee and Voodoo Doughnuts, we were off.

We visited both the Aquarium and OSU's Hatfield Research Center and then went over to the beach to get a little west coast sand between our toes.

I'm submitting this one to Skull-a-Day:

This one looks like a UFO:

Okay this one is sideways and I can't get it fixed (*shakes fist at Blogger picture upload*), but it's cool anyway, right?

I had no idea just how much I'd enjoy Portland (and the coast of Oregon). It is like finding a whole new passion. You lucky Ducks or lucky Beavers, however the case may be.

All Good Things...

...must, as we know, come to an end. (Insert sad face here.)

After a refreshing day of outdoor activities, it was back to the Convention Center for my final class and the Sock Summit Luminary Panel.

On Sunday morning, I had a Spindle Spinning Basics class with Abby Franquemont and Denny McMillan. They advocate the use of a bottom whorl spindle, which was a new experience for me. I equated it to writing with my left hand instead of my right. (At one point I pulled out a top whorl spindle just to make sure I hadn't lost my spinning mojo; thankfully, I hadn't, though you wouldn't have been able to tell from what I produced in class.) Now that I know some of the advantages of bottom whorls, I will be looking at spindles differently.

After that, it was one more sweep through the market where the big finds were Stranded in Oz, some of the softest merino evah, and a sweet Queen Bee Creations tote. I had to leave because every aisle was another shoppertunity. Step away from the cashmere!

Finally, it was up to the ballroom for the Luminary Panel. There was so much intelligence and wit up there on the dais, but here are a few gems:

When discussing the creation of EZ's first book, Meg Swansen said that it was typed on a rented IBM Selectric Typewriter. "You know, you make a mistake at the bottom of the page…shit!”

After being posed the question of whether being a woman made it more difficult to be taken seriously in her business, Meg responded, "I don't know, I've never been a man." (Love her!)

Barbara G. Walker was asked how she has managed to pack everything in that she has (feminist writer of many books, painter, foremost curator of knitting stitches, etc.), and she proceed to describe a lifestyle that is clearly motived by focus and drive. She admitted to needing very little sleep. She gave a detailed description of her routine, including how she took advantage of the six hours a day she had while her kids were in school to work on her projects, and how she once realized that her tv had been broken for five years before she called to have it repaired. After she left us all agog with her incredible discipline, Steph summed it up: "Recap, don’t sleep, and ditch your tv, right?”

There were so many other wonderful moments: Anna Zilboorg talking of the days when she did craft fairs, and realized she had crossed over to the dark side when her favorite part became counting the money at the end of the day, and Judith MacKenzie McCuin admitting she had moved a few years ago and part of the move was 6,000 lbs of fiber! I could go on and on...

There were questions raised about knitting as it relates to race, economics, gender, and social interaction. It sparked an all-evening discussion with the husband (who came with me to the Panel) that actually started on the Max train. (Another knitter on the train added her thoughts, too, which was great.) I'm so fortunate to have a husband who supports my interest and is willing to participate in it. (I also think might have a bit of a crush on Lucy Neatby, who was charming as anything, even dressed as she is as a punked out Raggedy Ann Doll! To prove it, here is a badly Kinneared pic of her.)

What's next? Tina told me directly that there will be other events, just not next year. She and Steph have formed Knot Hysterical Productions for these future endeavors. There are rumors that the next one will be in Toronto, Steph's hometown. (That part is unconfirmed--I did not get from Tina, though others have said they heard it from her.) Wherever it is, I hope to be able to go. It will be hard to top this one, and it is unlikely that it can be repeated, especially given the age of some of the teachers involved, but there are people coming up who will be dynamic forces in the field, to be sure. Counting the days...

Day Off: A Portland Travelogue

The husband and I took the day off from the Sock Summit to enjoy Portland. We were mighty busy as we:

• went to Stumptown Coffee for some delectable brew. (Remember how Voodoo Donuts was playing Springsteen's Nebraska album? Stumptown was playing Born in the USA, and, while not my favorite album, clearly Portland has got my soundtrack down.)


• we then headed down to the Saturday Market, a weekly art festival featuring all types of artists and craftspeople. I picked up a few very fun skirts made from reclaimed material. (I'm not buying more clothes, I'm recycling.)


• After the festival, it was off to the zoo. (This has been the only disappointment so far, as there were very few animals. Or maybe they were just hiding from the crowds. If I were them, I might do the same.)


• From the zoo, we headed up to the Japanese Garden which was lovely and peaceful.
  
  
• We headed across the street to the Rose Garden, which was quite remarkable. The scents were intoxicating. (I took eleventybillion photos, most were blurry. WTF?!)
  
• We had time to spare, so we caught the first part of a free concert featuring Devin Phillips and special guest Storm Large (of Rockstar: SuperNova fame).
  
  Wait, there is knitting!
  

• After that, we headed down to the Ravelry meetup where we met up with our friend Jocele who we first met on the SeaSocks cruise. We also got to spend a bit more time with Blogless Carla, Ana, Leslie, Marisol, Linda, Stephen and his pup, Janie Sparkles.


• As an added bonus, we had an early birthday dinner with Jocele, who shares her special day with Elizabeth Zimmerman. Happy birthday!


• We rounded out the day with a late-night cappuccino in the club lounge at the hotel.

Not bad for a day off, eh?

August 7, 2009, Portland, OR

Today at Sock Summit, I helped to break the Guinness Book of World Records for knitters knitting in one place, met this legendary woman (Barbara G. Walker):

took a class with this lovely lady (Meg Swansen):

and put on a sock that Meg used to wear that was actually, really and truly knit by her mother, Elizabeth Zimmerman.

I think I need to put a cold compress on my head.

Knitting Ne'er Do Well, Summit Slacker

Here's a quickie 'cause it is late and I haven't finished my homework for my Meg Swansen class and I'm tired and my head is spinning and my sock knitting dial is at 11.

This morning I took the bus out to the Pendleton Woolen Mill Factory Store. One of the salespeople at a regular Pendleton store told me that they had yarn and felting supplies. I also knew that the had selvages which I definitely wanted to check out. The yarn was on cones and was more appropriate for weaving, and the felting fiber wasn't anything to write home about. The selvages were all black, so they weren't that exciting. What was thrilling, however, was this old animated display of the steps it takes to process Pendleton wool:

Most adorable. Also quite fantastic was the display of woven tapestry. There was a wide variety of themes and styles, but the photo-realistic ones fascinated me.

Here is a close-up:It was worth the trip to see the exhibit.

My afternoon was filled with reacquainting myself with knitting friends from past festivals, camps, workshops, trips, etc., and Priscilla Gibson Roberts's Ethnic Socks and Stockings lecture.

PGR has health issues, and we were told that this would be her last outing to teach, so it was extra-special to be there. (Her most recent teaching trip was back in 2001.) It was an interesting, varied, and eclectic afternoon with slides and samples of some of the most amazing sock knitting you can possibly imagine, plus tales of knitting ne'er do-wells and veritable yarn-y feuds.



Following the afternoon class, the Marketplace opened for a few hours. At some point I just stopped putting my wallet back in my bag and kept it at the ready. The stash has grown by a couple of spindles, some new project bags (all featuring skulls or skeletons!), and a few skeins of yummy yarn goodness. (SWAG photos will have to wait for now.)

The evening concluded with the Open Reception during which Stephanie and Tina shared many-a-tale of how no one believed that this little gathering of knitters would become the phenomenon it did. (Those girls have got to get some sleep because they were just the tiniest bit punch-drunk, but who can blame them.)


Gotta fly so that I can finish my homework lest I have to write "I am a Sock Summit Slacker" 25 times.

Get My Cowgirl On

The unabated fun continues here in Portland, and Sock Summit hasn't even begun yet.

After a quick stop at Powell's for a return, we walked to Chinatown to the Chinese Classical Garden. On the way, there was diversion into Pendleton's where a 25% off sale meant that a Sally Starr-like cowgirl shirt was coming home with me. (For those not from the Philly-area, Sally Starr was a peroxide blonde cowgirl who hosted a TV variety show.) This shirt has contrasting piping and big, colorful embroidered flowers, and I am unleashing the cowgirl who bucks within, y'all, so watch out.

The garden was beautiful and peaceful, reminiscent of the Dr. Sun-Yat Sen Garden in
Vancouver, BC.

There were so many incredible sites, not the least of which was this woman's feet.

Seriously, I am all for a pair of heels, and I have suffered mightily from leaving the house in the wrong pair, but these were out of control. Somewhere a barefoot drag queen weeps...

After the garden, we took a walking tour of Underground Portland, though that was largely metaphorical.

I took many, many pictures of above-ground architectural details.

After the tour, we stopped in at Voodoo Doughnut, Too, made all the more fantastic because they were playing Springsteen's brilliant but oft-neglected Nebraska album. The husband got three donuts, the cream-filled, the chocolate CocoPuff topped one, and, at my urging, the Maple Bacon Bar. I had one bite of each. Well, actually, it was two bites of the bacon one. (Dietary restrictions went right out the window when we got here yesterday. I even had my first drink of hard liqor in eight months. Vodka, how I missed you. I will be on permanent detox when we get back home.)

After Voodoo, we made a quick stop at the hotel for a little nosh in the Club Lounge. (What you need after donuts are hors d'œuvres and red wine.) Earlier in the day we had read about a variety show featuring music and burlesque and hosted by a drag queen, so we asked the concierge what she knew about it. Her description of the venue was that it was a motorcycle bar. Hmmm....motorcycle bar and drag show...really. In actuality, it was kind of like Barbie's Dream Biker Bar with a cabaret room next door, and I'm guessing that the patrons were more likely to be Vespa drivers than hog owners.

One of the strangest things about it was here in a town with tons of great brews, there were several people drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon in cans. I really had to wonder.

So, some of you Chicagoans may know of Milly's Orchid Show, a live variety show hosted by Brigid Murphy, aka Milly, Brigid's cowgirl alter-ego. (Cowgirls are a theme tonight.) Milly holds some serious sway, and her show has included Poi Dog Pondering, appearances by Robert Klein, Sex and the City producer Micheal Patrick King, and many other notables. This show, Phoenix Variety Revue, was kinda like low budget Orchid Show. There was a charming vocal duo that performed 40s-era pop and jazz, a belly dancer, two burlesque performers/striptease artists (complete with spinning tassels and obvious evidence of being fans of Brazilian Waxing, a burlesque swing dance duo (more tassels!), and a hula hoop artist named Revolva. The whole thing was hosted by Ms. Zora Phoenix, who offered up both live vocals and the more traditional lip synced numbers. She opened the show by singing Brandy (You're a Fine Girl). You know the one..."The sailors say, Brandy, you're a fine girl, what a good wife you would be." (Now I dare you not to sing it all day. Come on, I dare you.) It was an interesting evening, to be sure, but it did make me nostalgic for both Milly's Orchid Show and a really good drag show.

Tomorrow...a trip to the Pendleton Woolen Mill Store and the Summit begins!!!