Two tragedies, no comedy

Scene 1

I was out on the back porch yesterday when I saw it. It was just sitting there, and I thought, "What a pretty leaf." And then it occurred to me that the pretty leaf had fallen from a tree. And I looked closer and saw that the pretty green leaf actually had tiny bits of red in its green. Srsly? The leaves are falling?


* * * * *

Scene 2

I was in my office/blocking room yesterday when I saw it. I'd finished knitting the final piece of Grannie Smith, and I lay the two fronts down on my desk to double check that they were the same length. I noticed that one row of diamonds was smaller than all the others. One time, I had missed two rows of the 12-row repeat. One time, just at the beginning of the armhole shaping, which means I have to rip back eight or nine inches of the front piece. Damn it!


* * * * *

I'm off to Edmonton tomorrow. I have to finish writing my paper. I have to pack. I definitely have to make more coffee...

Wanty

(That's worth clicking to embiggen.)

1. art wall., 2. Jen Duncan's super cute kitchen!, 3. Another new bargello, 4. Living room, 5. New (To Us) Sofa!, 6. Bedroom, 7. Apartment therapy, living room, 8. her casual living room, 9. Mirror collection, 10. Untitled, 11. thrifted quilt, 12. Dining room, 13. new credenza, 14. Stash corner, 15. dining room, 16. plates in display

I've been feeling wanty lately. Covetous. Just wishing that I was more settled in my life, that we could buy a little house, that I knew where we were going to end up living beyond 2010, that I had a little more money to spend on my surroundings, etc., etc. I don't like feeling this way, but at least I do know it will pass. In the meantime, I decided to spend a little time cruising around Flickr and feeding this demon of wantiness; what you see above represents that cruise. (I love seeing these mosaics on other blogs, but I'd never made one. Fun! I used this site, and I'll definitely be making more of these.) It's quite clear that I'm not a minimalist, right? I do like to live with my stuff around me. In my years of thrifting and sale-ing, I've managed to gather some stuff that I really love. I like groupings, and collections, and salon-style displays of art.

And don't get me wrong -- I do like lots of things about where I live now, and probably if somebody else came in and took some pictures in my house with a really nice camera, and put the pictures on Flickr, I'd be quite impressed. Because I'm a bit ridiculous. :)

I'll be writing a paper this weekend, and then on Tuesday I fly to Vancouver for a big conference. Once the conference is over, I'll be taking a holiday, visiting friends and family in different parts of B.C. I plan to knit, and crochet, and thrift, and sleep, and read for fun. I can't wait.

In the backyard

Part 1: Blanket

Bill (from the back porch): Ali, come here!
Me: OK. [Off I go...]
Bill (pointing next door): Look at the crocheted blanket. Isn't it pretty, hanging in the sunlight? I really like it.
Me: I like it, too. And I'm proud of you.
Bill: Why, because I'm showing you a blanket?
Me: No, because you know it's crochet. [pause] Is it legal to photograph your neighbour's laundry?


Part 2: Tulips

Mooky and I walked around the backyard the other day looking at all the lovely tulips that have burst open recently.





It almost feels like summer already, but I hope spring stays for a little while.

On "repurposing"

I'm sure glad we bought this stationary bike a couple years ago. I honestly don't know where else I'd dry all my socks.

First flowers!

Where yesterday there was only dirt and a few green shoots, today there are these purply-blue flowers! And I swear they're multiplying as the day goes on. How did I find them? Well, I was out hanging my wash on the clothesline, of course. Because that's what I do in the *s*p*r*i*n*g*! Smell ya later, winter.

A mixed bag of a post

What's better than a sunny Sunday afternoon? (That's a rhetorical question, not a riddle.) I'm on the couch in my living room with Mooky asleep on his blanket beside me, and sun is streaming through the front window. All the snow has melted, and the sky is blue. I'm about to get to reading, but first, there are a few things I've been meaning to share with you.

My friend Jon sent this link a few days ago: "Hand cream? Try mutton fat." The Guardian asked "war babies" to send in their "green tips" (for conservation, alternatives to consumption, etc.). I found this particularly interesting, since my parents grew up in the 1930s and '40s and are "green" in such an ingrained way that I didn't realize for the longest time that our family was practicing the 3 Rs. We don't waste things, we reuse things, we make our own things, we don't throw out a lot of stuff, and we would never dream of leaving unnecessary lights on. I certainly recognized my parents in this Guardian story, and you'll probably recognize your own parents or grandparents. Plus there are knitting-related tips that are quite brilliant, like this:

"My mother's handknits always featured raglan sleeves. When they wore thin on the elbow, you simply unstitched the sleeves and reversed them, left sleeve to right armhole. This way, you had a virtually new pullover -- until the reversed elbows also began to wear out. Then it was time to unravel and knit up again as part of a stripey jumper." (Here's the link again.)

I've been thinking about knitting lately. When I switched to Blogger Beta last month I had to redo my knitting gallery, which is now its own blog, organized by different labels (e.g., socks, sweaters, wool). Seeing all of those numbers was eye-opening! (I've knit 44 pairs of socks?!) Mostly it made me see that I really don't need to knit much more for myself. So I've been thinking that this year I'd like to focus on technique rather than the finished product. I'd like to learn Continental knitting, for example. I'd like to make gloves for the first time (or maybe these convertible mitts). Also, having just finished a stockinette sweater and a few pairs of stockinette socks, and coming close to finishing a stockinette vest, I'm looking forward to choosing projects this year that are pickier. Trickier. I'm going to stop knitting like it's a race. I'm going to be more concerned with process.

And continuing from this desire to learn new things this year, I'm going to start sewing. I want to sew some clothes. I want to quilt. This will actually be re-learning more than learning, as I used to sew a bit, so it's not all brand new. (Except for quilting -- I've never done that.) I have my copies of Wendy Mullin's Sew U and Denyse Schmidt's Quilts on the shelf, and if those two books don't make you want to sew something... well, they definitely make me want to sew. So do certain blog posts by all buttoned up, angry chicken, crafty brainwave, etc., and super eggplant (and many others).

Overall, I just want to live more creatively. At the same time, I know I'll be super busy during the next four months, taking three classes. But I'm not going to sweat it if very little knitting or sewing takes place before May. (It's not a race!) I think that, for me anyway, a potential downside of having a blog is the (self-induced) pressure to produce. I'm not going to worry too much about that. After all, there are always objects like my doorknob that I find inspiring!

Wow, all of that and not even a photo to reward you for reading! Hmm... maybe I can find something in this very room...

How about the last two Xmas clementines?

Doorknob

A few posts ago, Jodi asked for a closer look at one of my doorknobs. (I took a whole bunch of photos, and all but one were out of focus. Why? Why?) My apartment is probably a little over a hundred years old, and all but one of the doorknobs are clear glass, including those on the closets. And I hadn't noticed before, but only one door has this elaborate plate behind the doorknob: the door to Bill's office.

Not only is it a little strange that this fancy plate is on only one door, and a bit of a random door at that (why not on, say, the front door?), but look at those screws holding it to the door! Funny that somebody decided to install a fancy doorknob plate and then attached it with big ol' screws like that. Did they intend to replace them with something more appropriate someday? Did they not really care, as long as the doorknob worked?

Thanks, Jodi, for making me notice something new in my environment. And you? Interesting old doorknobs? An old stained-glass window somewhere?