It's Thursday afternoon, but sort of like Friday, because it's a long weekend in Taiwan. Tomorrow is Double Ten Day (tenth day of the tenth month), the national day of the Republic of China. Here is a little info on the background of the holiday. We were thinking of going to a city in the south for the weekend, but we left the planning too late. Oh well. Maybe we'll make it to the local parade this year. Last year we went to see it at around ten in the morning only to find out that it had started around 6:30 a.m. In the bad old days, Double Ten Day was a much bigger, louder celebration here, with a full-scale military parade (tanks, guns, etc.). In 2000, the government changed, and Chiang Kai-shek is mostly regarded as the brutal dictator that he was. The generalissimo's face is still on most of the island's coins, though; the beloved Dr. Sun Yat-sen is on the most common note: the hundred-dollar bill.

The sweater I've begun is a top-down raglan, using the Incredible Custom-Fit Raglan Sweater pattern. I've started it in a bulky red yarn, but I don't have enough red for the whole thing, and for some reason that particular shade is no longer available at the shop where I bought it. I've decided this is an opportunity for creativity! I'm just going to choose some other colours that I like and throw them in here and there. I'll let you know how it goes. I'm hoping it won't take me too long (at 3.5 st./inch, it shouldn't). I wasted a bit of time while working on it last night, sadly; I was watching TV and knitting around and around, and then realized, d'oh! I'd been increasing before and after every marker for four straight rounds. Oops. So if I can remember to increase only every second round, I should be able to fly through it. In any case, I won't need a sweater for a month or so. (I wish I did. I love autumn, and I miss it.)

Bill and I want to have two cats and a dog when we move back to Canada. Reading this column by Emma Tom makes me even more sure of it.

[My dog] Muriel is very helpful with guests. If these are guests who don't like dogs, Muriel knows the obliging thing to do is wildly hump their legs or their children. If these are guests who do like dogs, Muriel is the perfect entertainer. She runs maniacally to and from the back yard carrying camphor laurel twigs, which she then chews, swallows, throws up, then eats again.
So many hosts forget the camphor laurel twig trick when entertaining.

Read the column, and then go and snuggle with your pet(s). I wish I could. (Marlo, give Mooky a big loving head-butt for me!)

I cast on for a sweater last night! Stay tuned...

The Governator, eh? Well, at least Arnold is health conscious: "Milk are for babies. When you get older you drink beer." Hmm. Good luck, California.

Finally! Gimme an R-O-C-K-A-M-I!



Here it is: my ChicKami, knitted up on 5 mm needles using cotton-acrylic Japanese yarn bought for a song on the streets of Taipei. Sadly, a photo of black knitting is unable to convey the loveliness of each little stitch, but you can see the overall shape. I love this pattern, though I'm not in love with the yarn. I'm going to make another one soon, though. I love it that much. In fact, my RocKami makes me want to dance!

I've changed and simplified my About Me page (same 50 Things as before, though). I'll be changing the photo there periodically, so come back and check it out from time to time.

Happy birthday, Mom! I wish I wasn't a zillion kilometers away today and that I could share your chocolate cake with you! xo

I actually did cast on for Billy's second sock last night. I feel like a knitting star. My sweetheart will have a whole pair of socks in time for his birthday next week.

While throwing some metal in Peru recently, Alanis Morrissette shouted, "Thank you Brazil!" Poor dear.

I've put aside my lace panel sock for the time being. I like how it looks, and I will go back to it soon (really!). My friend Danny came over on Friday night and I showed it to him, and he said, "You knitted that? No, you didn't!" I beamed. Anyway, because I'm still a little sock-crazy but was wanting something quicker, I'm knitting a pair for Bill using Patons Astra. It's acrylic, but it makes a soft and luscious fabric (unlike Bernat Hot Sox, which is acrylic and feels acrylic, and has that sparkly acrylic look, too). I finished Bill's first sock last night. It's "Charcoal Mix" with a "Medium Gray" cuff, heel, and toe, in 3-by-1 ribbing. Anyway, when it was finished, ends woven in and everything, Bill put it on and said, "This is the first sock I've put on in years that fits perfectly!" Ah, a knitted sock is a beautiful thing. I promise I'll cast on for the second one tonight... (I'm using the Super Simple Knitwit Sock Pattern. I have to tell you: I prefer a top-down sock.)

Last night, I indulged in a fabulous Taiwan treat. Chicken testicle soup and a can of asparagus juice? No, even better! Paying somebody to wash my hair. Maybe this is done at home, too, but it would seem ridiculously luxurious to me. In Taipei, you can go to any hole-in-the-wall salon ("hole in the wall" being the most popular local design theme) for a wash and a head massage. For the equivalent of six Canadian dollars, I had the best hair-washing experience of my life, and it lasted nearly half an hour. First of all, I sat in the chair the whole time. This is the way it should be done. The hairdresser had a squeeze-bottle of shampoo; she lathered me up and proceeded to massage my scalp and neck and manhandle my head for twenty minutes. There was none of the usual head-back-in-the-sink, painful-neck business. Sitting upright. It's the only way. Of course, she rinsed me in the sink, but -- and I, a former student of the follicular arts, was astounded by the brilliance of this -- she had a plastic thing in the sink on which I could rest my head! Salon sinks are usually so uncomfortable because the weight of your head puts so much strain on your neck, which is cradled in its hard sink-crotch. Nor did she skimp on the rinse. It was a good five minutes. Fingernails were involved, but in a good way. My head was then wrapped in two towels, and I was led back to the chair. And as if I didn't already want to marry her, the hairdresser massaged my neck and squeezed my head all over to coax the water out of my hair. She wanted to blow-dry it, too, but I'm not a blow-dry kind of gal. For this experience, she charged six Canadian dollars and got a two-dollar tip. And she'll be seeing me again. I think I can justify a monthly wash, don't you?

I loved Barbies when I was a kid. I spent hours and hours dressing and undressing my Barbies, adding makeup to their plastic faces with felt pens, piercing their ears with straight pins, and so on. But I tell you, if I ever have a kid who wants to play with dolls, I'm not getting him or her a Barbie. I'm getting a nice, modest, flat-chested Razanne!

While Barbie has a curvaceous figure, Razanne was designed with the body of a preteen. The doll comes in three types: fair-skinned blonde, olive-skinned with black hair, or black skin and black hair.
Her aspirations are those of a modern Muslim woman. On the drawing board for future dolls are Dr Razanne and possibly even astronaut Razanne. There's also Muslim Girl Scout Razanne, complete with a cassette recording of the Muslim Scout's oath.

Modest Muslim doll has pious appeal

I'm just a little concerned that Razanne may not get along well with Feral Cheryl.

Knitting: I just have the lace panel sock on the go these days, but I'm itching to start a sweater, so to speak.