Thank You Very Much

So as I mentioned, I'm going to Las Vegas (where it is even more warm and spring-like than it was here on Monday), so of course I had to track down some Elvis videos on YouTube. While this isn't the original version of "A Little Less Conversation", the mix below does a great job of showing him in his bespangled, be-jumpsuited Las Vegas glory. Enjoy.

A Cocktail For The Last Half Of Winter

While I'm not one to get tired of whiskey or scotch or gin (oh my), sometimes it's nice to break out of the seasonal rut--which for me in winter is whiskey or scotch or a Gibson. I'm slowly stocking up my bar for the 30 Things, so when I was thinking of cocktail options I wasn't able to make a Sidecar with brandy, but I discovered the Chelsea Sidecar.

Take 2 ounces of gin, half an ounce of Cointreau, and a teaspoon of lemon juice and shake it up. Enjoy the lemony deliciousness and the frosty cold gin. Just enjoy slowly, because this one is strong.

Besides its delicious taste, this one gets extra points because it's an even lesser-known variation on an old-fashioned cocktail and it has "Chelsea" in the name, which makes you feel all sorts of late 60's mod and hip. Although that could just be the gin.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Viva Las Vegas

I have a trip to Las Vegas coming up with my friend from my stationery days, so of course I had to make some things to wear for it. As I reviewed my progress on the 29 Things at the end of 2009, I realized that I hadn't sewn any knits since that spring. Knits + travel = easy packing and no wrinkles, so I made a couple of knit dresses.

Here's the first, with some ordinary fabric from JoAnn (in case I was out of the habit of sewing knits). I used this pattern from Simplicity and, despite cutting the back a little crooked, it turned out pretty well.

The print reminds me of the old casino signs, so it's perfect for fabulous Las Vegas.

We Made It Through January

Happy February first (or Imbolc, if you're a Druid). Did we all enjoy the mix of snow and sun and high 40's yesterday? It made me think that yes, we can get through this. I always think of a Wallace Stevens poem at this time of year--"at the end of winter when afternoons return."

The Poems of our Climate

I
Clear water in a brilliant bowl,
Pink and white carnations. The light
In the room more like a snowy air,
Reflecting snow. A newly-fallen snow
At the end of winter when afternoons return.
Pink and white carnations - one desires
So much more than that. The day itself
Is simplified: a bowl of white,
Cold, a cold porcelain, low and round,
With nothing more than the carnations there.

II
Say even that this complete simplicity
Stripped one of all one's torments, concealed
The evilly compounded, vital I
And made it fresh in a world of white,
A world of clear water, brilliant-edged,
Still one would want more, one would need more,
More than a world of white and snowy scents.

III
There would still remain the never-resting mind,
So that one would want to escape, come back
To what had been so long composed.
The imperfect is our paradise.
Note that, in this bitterness, delight,
Since the imperfect is so hot in us,
Lies in flawed words and stubborn sounds.

Salinger-Related Information (On A Friday)

1. I learned yesterday (like most of you) that J.D. Salinger died Wednesday, at the age of 91. His New York Times obituary focuses mainly on his 50 years of reclusiveness, but did have this to say about the italics:
The stories were remarkable for their sharp social observation, their pitch-perfect dialogue (Mr. Salinger, who used italics almost as a form of musical notation, was a master not of literary speech but of speech as people actually spoke it), and for the way they demolished whatever was left of the traditional architecture of the short story — the old structure of beginning, middle, end — in favor of an architecture of emotion, in which a story could turn on a tiny alteration of mood or irony.

2. I have to admit that I always wondered if more Salinger would be published after he died, but now that he's dead I'd rather think of him still writing every day than of being able to read more of his work.

3. If you would like to read any of the short stories online, you can use your subscription to The New Yorker to do so here or you can read them for free (gasp! just like a library!) here.

ETA: 4. And The Onion's take on it: Bunch of Phonies Mourn J.D. Salinger. Thank you, Onion.

Speaking Of Alcohol...

A few weeks ago I found a news article about new research that makes the claim that early humans developed agriculture not for a steady supply of food, but a steady supply of booze. As the article tells us,

[Archaeologist Patrick McGovern's]bold thesis, which he lays out in his book, Uncorking the Past. The Quest for Wine, Beer and Other Alcoholic Beverage, states that agriculture--and with it the entire Neolithic Revolution, which began about 11,000 years ago--are ultimately results of the irrepressible impulse toward drinking and intoxication.

"Available evidence suggests that our ancestors in Asia, Mexico, and Africa cultivated wheat, rice, corn, barley, and millet primarily for the purpose of producing alcoholic beverages," McGovern explains. While they were at it, he believes, drink-loving early civilizations managed to ensure their basic survival.

Hey, I think it sounds plausible. If I had to struggle to survive every day, I'd want a drink, too.

When Hemingway Comes In Handy

Monday night I took a wine class (through the U's Continuing Education) with a friend from work. Our class was "Value Wines of Italy" and as we moved onto a Tuscan red (not, apparently, an "official" Chianti), the teacher asked, "Who knows what the straw-wrapped bottles of Chianti are called?"

And I had to remember all the times the Colonel in Across the River and Into the Trees asked the hotel staff in Venice for "a fiasco" of some wine or another, and that was indeed the answer.

The teacher went on to explain how most Americans' first experience with Chianti was so bad that the term was adopted to mean "a complete failure"--which isn't exactly what the dictionary tells me*, but sounded very charming and plausible when she said it.

*My dictionary says the term came about from the phrase "far fiasco," literally "to make a bottle," and was used in Italy to mean "complete failure" since the mid-19th century. Tomato, tomahto...both of which are very nice with Chianti.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Now With More Cables

Remember at the beginning of the month when I talked about making a traditional Aran sweater? And I was intimidated by the traditional pattern and construction methods? Well, this is the year of speaking up sooner if something is not how I want it to be, and the traditional pattern of the intended sweater was not only difficult--it wasn't cable-y enough.

Here is the traditional pattern:


And for comparison, here's something with LOTS o'cables:I don't like knitting projects to be that challenging (or require that much concentration at night), so this is not the winning pattern. Instead, I compromised with this pattern (very popular among knitters) and a different cable.


Here's the progress so far


and here's the different cable--it's called a staghorn cable.

And I think I used "cable" about 5 times in 100 words. Cables!

Happy Birthday, Virginia Woolf

And happy birthday yesterday to Edith Wharton. If you want to be a perceptive lady novelist, it's a good time to have a birthday.

(Can you tell I've been busy at work? I'm sorry things have just been links or images lately--I don't have as much time to find or prepare better material. On the upside, we are actually helping to promote a mixed martial arts event in South Carolina and I get to write scripts for the ring announcer. My career is complete!)

Friday Unrelated Information

There's an animal theme today:
1. BoingBoing posted about the kid's book Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb and used the phrase "beatnik monkeys." I'll have to see if the parents still have our copy so I, too, can admire those cool simians as an adult.

2. Animals with Lightsabers. You may have seen this, but a recent entry was captioned "Jedi Reepicheep"!

3. And finally, seagulls:

Do You Need More Pictures Of Cool People In Your Life?

If you do, check out If Charlie Parker Was a Gunslinger, There'd Be a Whole Lot of Dead Copycats. It's a visual blog of old photos of musicians, actors, mobsters, famous people--and even vintage pattern covers. There are such diverse categories as "The Gunslinger's Guide to Julie Christie," "Artists in Action," and "Before and After" (in case you want to see how people have aged).

Check it out--any blog that has a category devoted to Bob Dylan pictures is OK by me.

Another Reason To Visit The Cook Islands

If I did, I'd get to see the stars from the Southern Hemisphere. The Astronomy Picture of the Day site had a photo last week demonstrating just that:


On the left the outlines show Orion seen from a beach off Tasmania, and on the right you can see it in the Northern Hemisphere, from the Alborz Mountains in Iran. (See more details and a bigger picture on the APOD site.)

That's just very cool. My sister-in-law is going to South Africa in the spring and I am jealous!

Tuedsay Project Roundup: No Loose Ends

Here's a project from last year for the roundup: I wanted something mindless to knit over Christmas get-togethers, so I made a tube scarf (or infinity scarf) with some very nice berry-colored alpaca (Merry Christmas to me).

I was inspired by this scarf and I have to say that a tube scarf--i.e., a big loop of scarf, with the ends connected--is both fun to knit and wear. Because you don't have to worry about the ends being long enough to go over your shoulder, you're done knitting sooner than you would be with a traditional scarf, and it's nice to not have the bullk of the wrapped ends under your coat.



I just wish my cameral could deal with the light levels in the apartment better. For some reason pictures taken in this same spot of me wearing the scarf came out way too dark, which is why it's modeled on the hangar.

Happy Birthday, A.A. Milne

Today is the birthday of the creator of Winnie-the-Pooh, Alan Alexander Milne. As the Writer's Almanac tells us, "Milne went to school for mathematics, but ended up spending most of his time writing. He wrote a mediocre novel and then started writing plays, and he ended up writing 27 of them."

But after publishing three books of children's poems and the first Pooh book (for his son) within four years, "most people didn't take him seriously as a writer for adults anymore."

That may have disappointed Milne, but it's fine with me--because who doesn't love the Pooh books, and their Random Capitalizations of Important Thoughts?

Friday Unrelated Information

1. I've signed up for "new listings" emails from a real estate office (more to just keep my goal in mind than to actually buy anything yet) and the agent remarks on the houses continue to be great. Did you know that Salt Lake has a trendy acronym-ed neighborhood? One house was located in "SOTRO (South of Trolley)." Groan.

2. Would you like to look at some mid-century gas stations designed by famous architects? (Who wouldn't?) Check them out here. I kind of want to move in to the Albert Frey one in Palm Springs.

3. Here is a recipe for Carl Sagan's apple pie. I'm sure it will be crumbly, but good. (Click for big.)

Rally!

The Paris-Dakar Rally (apparently just called the Dakar Rally even though it's being held in South America "for security reasons") is going on right now. The Big Picture blog has some great images, although there seemed to be even more death and mayhem than I would expect.

But look at this!

Sadly, there were no pictures of Ford Focus rally cars.

Have A Seat

I am really going to push myself this year to be more social--not only to get out more, but to have more people come to the apartment. Last year there were hardly any visitors, and if I'm not going to turn into a crazy cat lady hermit, I need to change that.

So I bought a chair (Thing #6) and rearranged the living room. Now guests can make their way to the seating area easily and we won't have to sit side-by-side and try to talk.

I "cheated" on this, too, in that I picked it out online when I was making my 30 Things list, but I was going to wait to order it--until Target had a sale plus free shipping after Christmas. I do love that Target furniture.
Toby does, too.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Stacking The Deck

I started thinking about the 30 Things in December, and I have to admit that a couple of things were not only thought of but carried out in 2009. I was going to wait on Thing #7 (sew new pillows for the living room), but then I decided to have a New Year's party and I had some time off and the brown pillows were just too much of an embarrassment. So here are the new ones:

I am so much happier with these, which don't collect cat hair and have orange flowers and birds on them to boot. And I have a nice feeling of early accomplishment with my list, even if I did cheat a little.

And speaking of cheating, what's this in the foreground of the rearranged living room? Thing #6, perhaps? Tune in tomorrow to find out!

Off To A Slow Start

I'm taking a sick day today, which is a little indulgent--I'm not THAT sick--but probably a good idea. Here's a lolcat instead:

Friday Unrelated Information

1. The Writer's Almanac tells us
Today, writer Isabel Allende is starting a new book, just as she has been doing every single January 8th for the past 29 years. On January 8, 1981, when Chilean-born Allende was living in Venezuela and working as a school administrator and freelance journalist, she got a phone call that her beloved grandfather, at 99 years old, was dying. She started writing him a letter, and that letter turned into her very first novel, The House of the Spirits. She said, "It was such a lucky book from the very beginning, that I kept that lucky date to start."

2. And here's Toby on an IKEA nightstand nicely finished by my dad as per this hack:

How Little We Know

You can't binge on Humphrey Bogart movies without running into Lauren Bacall. Here she is singing "How Little We Know" from To Have and Have Not.



That dress kind of makes me want to try a pattern from the 40's. Usually I avoid that era because older patterns=sparser directions, and I've never cared for that strong shoulder. But all these old movies are making me reconsider.

Capable

I've been watching a lot of Humphrey Bogart movies lately (Sabrina, To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo, The Maltese Falcon), and when my mom called last week and I was watching another one, she said, "I don't think he's that handsome, really."

And I said, "No, but he seems so capable."

Tuesday Project Roundup: "A long and lovely project."

"It is a cold and snowy January. The holidays are behind us, and Twelfth Night will be any day now: what better time to embark on a long and lovely project? I have masses of thick unbleached natural cream wool, which with luck should work up into a really solid-looking Aran."
That is a quote from the Knitter's Almanac, a sort of pattern "guidebook" by famous knitter Elizabeth Zimmerman, and the source of my next project. This project terrifies me a little: I have guidelines on creating a sweater pattern just for me but no actual pattern, there are complicated stitches, and it involves knitting a tube and then cutting it to make it a cardigan.

Because there's a lot of "knitter's choice" in the pattern, it's hard to find a picture of what it looks like. It's the sweater at 2 o'clock on the cover of the book above, and here's the original pullover knit by EZ. Here are a couple other cardigan options with different cable patterns than specified in the book.

I'm not usually one for crafty challenges, but I've been thinking about this sweater all year (it was on the 29 Things) and I really want to wear it once it's done. We'll see if that's enough motivation, because it certainly will be a long project--hopefully a lovely one.

And We're Off!

I had a lovely three days of celebrating the New Year and my new decade, so let's jump into the first week of what should be a great year with my list of 30 Things:

1. Put the money that I was using to pay off debt into savings for a down payment on some sort of house, townhouse, or condo
   
2. Learn about real estate and home buying through the Utah State Extension classes
3. Stop buying non-essentials (ready-made clothes, really expensive fabric, shoes, magazines, etc.) for three months (months TBD)
   
4. Buy that Eames desk chair. I'll use the money I'll be saving from not buying any non-essentials.
5. Buy that damn garbage can already
6. Buy a living room chair--armless, small-ish, but comfy. This will help with seating to accomplish #22.
7. Sew new pillow covers for the living room
8. Buy a vacuum
   
9. Refresh my yoga skills and then...
10. Start doing yoga once or twice a week
11. Get recycling at the apartment. I haven't had it for three years and I'm tired of feeling guilty every time I throw away some junk mail.
    
12. Similarly, bring in some actual flatware for the breakroom at work to cut down on waste
    
13. November-March, walk or ride to work at least twice a month. April-September, up it to at least four times a month.
14. Eat at one new restaurant a month--any meal, but it has to be somewhere I haven't been before.
15. Eat at Red Iguana
16. Go to Bonneville Speed Week
17. Go to a roller derby game
18. Stop biting my fingernails (I mean it this year)
    
19. Wear more colors of lipstick than "pink" and "darker pink"
20. Find a perfume I want to wear regularly
    
21. Stock and maintain a home bar and keep it stocked. No drinking it up and not replacing it.
    
22. Have more people over to the apartment--not huge parties, but a few people for dinner, or drinks before a restaurant, etc.
23. Learn more about wine
24. Learn and retain the difference between whisk(e)y, bourbon, and scotch
    
25. Learn and retain the difference between brandy and cognac
26. Get my eyes checked again, update my prescription, and start wearing glasses in front of the computer.
27. Find a dermatologist to look at a couple of moles, if only so I can stop worrying about skin cancer
    
28. Learn how to can fruits, veggies, or jam
    
29. Get a better camera
30. Go to Moab and/or Zion

29 Things Wrap-Up

On this last day of 2009 and third-to-last day of being 29, here's the recap of the 29 Things. I accomplished 13 of them, scratched 11 of them, and am carrying over the rest.

I'm pretty pleased with what I did get done overall, considering how the year started. But while 2009 had some really rough spots and I can't wait to put my 20's behind me, the year was good to me. I have a job I like even better, friends and family who help me out, hobbies, and Toby. As Joseph Addison says, "Three grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."

So here's the report--green is done, red is scratched or not done, black is going on the 30 Things list, and any commentary is in italics:

1. Learn the names of the Wasatch mountain peaks--I only can point to Mt. Olympus--I can point to Twin Peaks, Lone Peak, and Dromedary Peak now, too.
   
2. Pay off the remaining debt--Seriously, I thought this day would never come.
   
3. Get a queen size mattress
4. Make a queen-sized quilt--Done! Another day I thought would never come.
   
5. Hike Bald Mountain in the Uintas again--This sounded less and less appealing as the year went on and I more fully embraced my fear of heights. So scratch this one.
   
6. Finish reading The Silmarillion--I have also fully embraced my inability to retain anything in this book. Scratch!
   
7. Knit Christmas stockings (starting with Toby's, of course)--Only Toby's is done but that's the only one that really counts. It's not like I'm going to hang and fill one for myself.
   
8. Visit the north end of Zion National Park
9. Be less wimpy about riding my bike on cooler days--I was still wimpy, but I've come up with a better plan for next year.
   
10. Eat at Red Iguana
11. Eat at The Paris
12. Chill a watermelon in a stream on a picnic in the mountains--I will now admit that I don't like watermelon. And I will not be hiking Bald Mountain to give the melon time to chill. Scratch!
    
13. Knit at least one thing for charity using up yarn I have--I bought yarn to knit a hat, which ended up being a practice hat for a gift, and then gave away the first hat to Big Brothers Big Sisters and never took a picture of the gift hat.
    
14. Get a new desk chair, if an affordable molded Eames chair exists--I am going to force myself to spend the money for a new chair in 2010. I'll just pretend it's a pair of shoes.
    
15. Cook moules marnieres and frites--I originally meant "from scratch," i.e. get the mussels, scrub them, purge them, parboil the taters, fun with deep-frying, etc. I cooked a lot of frozen mussels instead. And The Paris offers both the moules and the frites, so I am going to pass on this.
    
16. Stop biting my nails.--I have good days and bad days. Still working on this.
    
17. Learn how to sew knit fabric--Done! And easy!
    
18. Drink an Old Fashioned at the bar at Bambara
    
19. Learn how to apply eye makeup that doesn't look scary or amateurish--I've even gone from powder eyeliner to a real pencil in the last month or two.
    
20. Go to the Oyster Bar one Monday a month after work for a half-priced appetizer--I modified this one in my halfway report, so I'm just calling it done.
    
21. Replace my Rubbermaid kitchen garbage can with a broken spring top with something nicer. --I really had a hard time justifying this purchase (but not the purchase of many shoes), so I am indeed turning 30 with duct tape on my garbage can. This one gets top priority in 2010.
    
22. Knit an elaborate cabled sweater--I have the yarn and the pattern picked out! Tune in Tuesday for more.
    
23. Build my collection of Bach CDs--The only CD I bought this year was Beethoven's Missa Solemnis. Again, no problem buying shoes, but CDs seemed so extravagant.
    
24. Learn how to dance--This plan started out so well, but it ended up not working. Live and learn.
    
25. Stop getting plastic bags from the grocery store
    
26. Have tea at The Grand America--It turned out that they are a client at my new job, so I have had plenty of Grand America experiences without any tea.
    
27. Make cloth napkins and use them for everyday meals
    
28. Go out to breakfast one weekend a month
29. Go to Moab for New Year's Eve--I'm having a party on New Year's Day instead. No travel in the snow, no leaving Toby alone, no getting drunk the night before: Perfect. I still want to try to get to Moab in 2010, though.
    

Poem For Snow, Although It Was Better Suited To The Inversion

The weekend was so gloomy that I was starting to feel sad, so I had to go find some T.S. Eliot. This is from "Little Gidding," from the Four Quartets.

Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart's heat,
Reflecting in a watery mirror
A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon.
And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier,
Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but pentecostal fire
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul's sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time's covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.
Where is the summer, the unimaginable
Zero summer?

Tuesday Project Roundup: Year In Review

Other than a scarf, I haven't had a project this week and I can't decide what I want to make. Going back through the year of Tuesday Project Roundups, I realize I probably don't need to make anything; 2009's projects with the new sewing machine and lots of unemployed knitting time included:
7 dresses
7 shirts
5 sweaters
4 drawstring shoe/lingerie bags
3 knitted "padded" hangers
3 skirts
3 pairs of mittens/gloves
1 quilt
1 pair pajamas
1 robe
1 Christmas stocking

...or, a project about every two weeks. (Knitting takes a lot longer than sewing, so it screw up the average, but that's pretty accurate.) No wonder I'm so antsy this week!

Did We All Have A Merry Christmas?

Remember, the week after Christmas is the time to go shop for yourself, as this vintage ad reminds us:
(Click for big. I don't really advocate buying or giving handguns.)

Ready To Celebrate

I have a split of champagne in the fridge to go with my dinner tonight,* Toby has a feather toy and a laser pointer waiting in his stocking for tomorrow, and I'm going to spend the day baking French things. Sounds like a good day!

*The wine store was packed yesterday, of course, and I heard someone at the end of the line say, "I guess nobody wants to be sober on Christmas!"

"...a tight Christmas"

Because this is a pantheistic blog, here's a poem to balance Monday's atheist cartoon. It's by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Mr. City Lights, and was published in 1959 in A Coney Island of the Mind.

Christ Climbed Down

Christ climbed down
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
there were no rootless Christmas trees
hung with candycanes and breakable stars

Christ climbed down
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
there were no gilded Christmas trees
and no tinsel Christmas trees
and no tinfoil Christmas trees
and no pink plastic Christmas trees
and no gold Christmas trees
and no black Christmas trees
and no powderblue Christmas trees
hung with electric candles
and encircled by tin electric trains
and clever cornball relatives

Christ climbed down
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
no intrepid Bible salesmen
covered the territory
in two-tone cadillacs
and where no Sears Roebuck crèches
complete with plastic babe in manger
arrived by parcel post
the babe by special delivery
and where no televised Wise Men
praised the Lord Calvert Whiskey

Christ climbed down
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
no fat handshaking stranger
in a red flannel suit
and a fake white beard
went around passing himself off
as some sort of North Pole saint
crossing the desert to Bethlehem
Pennsylvania
in a Volkswagen sled
drawn by rollicking Adirondack reindeer
with German names
and bearing sacks of Humble Gifts
from Saks Fifth Avenue
for everybody’s imagined Christ child

Christ climbed down
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
no Bing Crosby carolers
groaned of a tight Christmas
and where no Radio City angels
iceskated wingless
thru a winter wonderland
into a jinglebell heaven
daily at 8:30
with Midnight Mass matinees

Christ climbed down
from His bare Tree
this year
and softly stole away into
some anonymous Mary’s womb again
where in the darkest night
of everybody’s anonymous soul
He awaits again
an unimaginable
and impossibly
Immaculate Reconception
the very craziest
of Second Comings

Tuesday Project Roundup: Covering Household Items In Knitting

No, I haven't lost it; I made padded hangers out of yarn.
Regular padded hangers require a staple gun and batting and sounded hard, but these used up some stash yarn and took about an hour each.

And now I can hang knitted things on another knitted thing. How meta.

The Worst Is Over

Today is the winter solstice, marking the official beginning of winter. But since it also marks the shortest day of the year, I like to think of it as the turning point: It can only get lighter and warmer from here.

Let's celebrate with a light-hearted comic about science (click for big).


Maybe I should have made some gingerbread Carl Sagans this year!

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Now that the first decade of the 21st century is almost over, I'm finally getting with it: I have a Flickr account now. None of my own photos are in it; it's more like a virtual inspiration binder for decorating and projects. (It started because I needed to see two different pillow fabrics next to each other.)

2. I've been idly going through real estate sites, just to see what I'm up against (a lot), and the "remarks" on each house on the Chapman Richard site are hilarious:
Careful, Cat May Attack If You Try To Touch
DO NOT LOCK THE DOOR ON THE INSIDE OF SUN ROOM.
Great Fixer-Upper, House Is Uninhabitable

3. And finally, with the solstice approaching, here's a column from The Guardian by poet Jeanette Winterson about embracing the dark and using it for reflection, being "dark without being melancholy, brooding without being depressed."

Party Season

Reading the J. Peterman catalog as a teen and coveting the Silk Taffeta Ball Skirt, I imagined that grown-up life meant lots of parties that looked like this, not budgets and grocery shopping.




Despite the lack of lipstick and bouffants, it's still pretty good to get older.

(Images are by Tom Palumbo, of Paris in 1962. You can see the whole set here.)

This Is A Big One

Between changes in my life, changes in my goals, and just running out of steam, I think I will only have about a 50% success rate on my 29 Things (a full report is coming, as are 30 Things for next year).

But yesterday I accomplished the one that meant most to me (#2): I made the last payment on credit card debt that I've been carrying for years, and which I've been repaying for the last three. It was a lot of debt. I was stupid. It was really hard to be on such a tight budget. But now: Debt-free! I can finally consider adult things like home ownership.

Tuesday Project Roundup: The First Thing I Learned To Sew

I learned to sew in 4-H, as organized by my mother, when I was about 10, maybe younger. The first real project--after lots of sewing on paper without thread--was a drawstring bag. Twenty years later, here I am making drawstring bags again:


These are shoe bags and a lingerie bag, all meant to help with packing--so your packed clothes don't get dirtied by your shoes and you can tell what's been worn and what hasn't. They were for my sister-in-law's birthday last Saturday, which I forgot to mention here; she's been traveling a lot so I thought this would be practical.

I have to admit that I didn't remember my first 4-H bag training for these. I had to use an online tutorial to walk me through the first one, but it all came back for the next two. (Granted, it's a bag, not rocket science, but I tend to cling to directions so I was happy to just cut and sew by the end.)

Ten Days To Go

Presents: wrapped.
Christmas cards: addressed.
Packages: mailed.
Menus: planned.
1977 American Ballet Theater version of The Nutcracker: watched.

This version aired a lot on PBS when I was in my teens, and I thought it was the most magical thing in the world. I'm sure a lot of that had to do with Barishnykov, because when I put in the DVD yesterday the soft-focus 70's-ness of it all was slightly less than magical. But then the real dancing started and I decided that Mikhail could be my imaginary boyfriend again.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. As I've been full of the Christmas Spirit not having to work two jobs, I've been watching Christmas movies. Holiday Inn was in the queue this week and so I got to see the original rendition of "White Christmas." Which was followed by a number for Lincoln's birthday featuring Bing Crosby in blackface. Ugh.

2. I've found a blog about working on and living in old houses from the 40's through the 70's: Retro Renovation. It even has tips on what to do with a pink bathroom!

3. The mittens performed admirably at the company party last night, even though it was SEVEN BELOW at Soldier Hollow--and that's not counting the windchill from tubing.

"Improbable, beautiful and afraid of nothing"

Here's something from Mary Oliver that the Writer's Almanac had posted last weekend. It works in birds, and winter, and being a better person--just right.

Starlings in Winter
by Mary Oliver

Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly

they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,

dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled star
that opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,

then closes again;
and you watch
and you try
but you simply can't imagine

how they do it
with no articulated instruction, no pause,
only the silent confirmation
that they are this notable thing,

this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again,
full of gorgeous life.
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,

even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart
pumping hard, I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.

Pretty. Also, COLD.

I was out this morning sweeping off the little bit of snow that accumulated and making sure the bird feeder was uncovered and full, and it looked like this:

(Maxfield Parrish, "Winter Night Landscape [Study]." Oil on board, 1956-58.)

I hope all the birds and the strays and the people who were out last night are OK. I actually got a recorded call from Utah Power yesterday evening saying to stop unnecessary power use to accommodate demand due to the extreme cold, and to consider lowering thermostats "five to ten degrees." Um, no. But I didn't use the space heater last night, because I am a good and obedient citizen. I noticed all the neighbors kept their Christmas lights on, though.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Knit Faster

So in between Secret Gift Knitting/Sewing I've been working on another pair of those Twilight Mittens for myself--except this time they fit and I like them. (The saga of the last pair: I lost my place in the cables, they didn't match, and they ended up too small even after I blocked them, so I gave them to a non-knitting Twilight-loving co-worker who thought they were awesome.)

But this pair fits--I went up to larger needles and nice chunky yarn. The left one is done; I'll finish this right one tonight, because I need to wear them to the company Christmas party Thursday, which involves sledding.

Nothing Says Christmas Like A Horn Section

Just yesterday I was wishing that there were more Christmas soul albums, and then I discovered Otis Redding covering "White Christmas." Released posthumously as a single with "Merry Christmas, Baby," this is the second-most awesome Christmas song ever. (Here's the most awesome one.)


Also: Nothing gets one excited for Christmas more than NOT working two jobs in December.

Friday Unrelated Information

1. Christmas is coming--do you have a nativity set that uses Helvetica yet? If not, you could try this minimalist one.
2. I've been reading a re-print of Elsie De Wolfe's The House in Good Taste, first published in 1913. It's fascinating to read a decorating book published without a lot of pictures. Despite it being nearly a century old, there's a lot of good points made.
We are sure to judge a person in whose house we find ourselves for the first time, by their surroundings. We judge their temperament, their habits, their inclinations, by the interior of their home. We may talk of the weather, but we are looking at the furniture.

Maybe This Is Why I Like The Cosmos Series So Much Lately

Today's Writer's Almanac featured this poem (and also a description of the "Stella shouting contest, also known as the 'Stell-off'" that's part of a Tennessee Williams festival--the Writer's Almanac is nothing if not varied):

Stars

by Freya Manfred

What matters most? It's a foolish question because I'm hanging on,
just like you. No, I'm past hanging on. It's after midnight and I'm falling
toward four a.m., the best time for ghosts, terror, and lost hopes.

No one says anything of significance to me. I don't care if the President's
a two year old, and the Vice President's four. I don't care if you're
cashing in your stocks or building homes for the homeless.

I was a caring person. I would make soup and grow you many flowers.
I would enter your world, my hands open to catch your tears,
my lips on your lips in case we both went deaf and blind.

But I don't care about your birthday, or Christmas, or lover's lane,
or even you, not as much as I pretend. Ah, I was about to say,

"I don't care about the stars" -- but I had to stop my pen.
Sometimes, out in the silent black Wisconsin countryside
I glance up and see everything that's not on earth, glowing, pulsing,
each star so close to the next and yet so far away.

Oh, the stars. In lines and curves, with fainter, more mysterious
designs beyond, and again, beyond. The longer I look, the more I see,
and the more I see, the deeper the universe grows.

I have a long way to go, and I'm starting now --
out in the silent black Wisconsin countryside.

Advent Calendar

The Big Picture blog has started their photo-a-day countdown to Christmas this year, again using images from the Hubble Space Telescope. A new photo is added every day here.

I think Carl Sagan would approve. My dad loaned me the book Cosmos to go along with my watching of the show, and here's my holiday thought for this season:

The Cosmos may be densely populated with intelligent beings. But the Darwinian lesson is clear: There will be no humans elsewhere. Only here. Only this small planet. We are a rare as well as an endangered species. Every one of us is, in the cosmic perspective, precious. If a human disagrees with you, let him live. In a hundred billion galaxies, you will not find another.

Tuesday Project Roundup: Let's Hear It For Four-Day Weekends

I got so much done over the weekend: Finished a knitted accessory that was supposed to be a gift but won't fit the intended recipient (I'll try again); started over on a new pair of Twilight mittens for myself (Twilight, I wish I could quit you); sewed something secret for a holiday gift; sewed my Liberty peacock-print dress; and finished the beige cardigan.

Here's the dress:


And here's the cardigan:



Funny thing about the cardigan--I re-did the front three times to get it perfect. Then I got to the knitted border and collar and I used a smaller needle so it wouldn't droop. I over-compensated, though, so the border came out a little short and tight, which is why the bottom flips up in that little diamond fold. I told myself that I like the "adapted" shape--and I do--but it's not how it's supposed to be. I may end up re-doing the border...I'll wear it first and see.