Christmas, etc.

As I write this I’m currently trying in vain to keep my lap cat-free.  It’s not working.  Just thought you should know.

 

The days leading up to Christmas were super busy for me (and, I’m sure, for other holiday knitters and crafters ’round the world ).  Then I was off work all last week, and Dr. Who is on Netflix streaming, and I have all this lovely stash yarn to knit up, and…you know how it goes.  Not a lot has gotten done

This was our first year hosting the big family Christmas Eve dinner (and, since we’re moving to California next year and then DC after that, it may have been our only shot at the gig).  My parents came into town on 12/23, so Roxie got to have some quality time with her Granddad…

(I think they were both happy with that arrangement)

 

and I enlisted Mom into indentured servitude, making a table runner from a length of fabric I’d picked up at Hancock:

See how happy she looks about driving 250 miles and then immediately being forced to slave over a temperamental sewing machine?

 

 

The next day (Christmas Eve), Dad taught me how to prep a turkey:

 

That’s also when I learned that for some reason, turkeys come with severed necks in their chest cavities:

 

Fucking disgusting.

 

This is the most awesome picture ever and I think I’m going to ask it to be lasered onto my headstone.  With the caption, “Julia Child she ain’t.”

(Err…what’s the past tense of “ain’t”?)

 

The finished table, complete with Mom’s runner:

Isn’t it pretty? I’m so proud  The white tablecloths were borrowed from Mom, and Jeff’s cousins brought a bunch of folding chairs when they arrived later that day.  The holiday china was a gift five or six years ago, and I got the sage green napkins at World Market (they were half the price of the IDENTICAL Christmas napkins; the only difference being that these didn’t come in a pack with a cartoon reindeer on the label.)

 

I made those namecards – the snowflake stickers from Target are all matchy-matchy with the pattern on the runner.  And the thingies on the plate were Mom’s idea (via Pinterest, I think):  ”reindeer noses” of Whoppers, in muffin papers wrapped in baggies.

 

(Yes, that is where I get “it” from)

 

And of course, my little Type-A self had to plan – and label – each serving dish before cooking!

I don’t know where the Zoloft post-its came from, but I giggle a bit every time I use one.

 

I’d been looking for a small, non-tacky garland for the dining room hutch, but I never could find one.  So I kept it simple:

 

While Mom was making the runner on Friday night, I baked a red velvet cake.  And then on Saturday morning, I frosted it.  Like so:

The brown flecks are toffee crunch bits from the cake decorating section at Michael’s.  Alicia gave me the idea for the red velvet cake – originally I was going to do another turtle cheesecake, but I was sort of tired of those, having made three in as many weeks.  Then I was going to make a plain chocolate bundt cake, but decided I wanted to do something just a bit more special.  Then I was going to make a pumpkin cake, but was out of canned pumpkin.  So…red velvet it is!  I’d made red velvet layer cakes before, but not a bundt cake.  So I used this recipe, though I was initially dubious about the lack of sugar and chocolate. I also threw out their cream cheese frosting recipe and went with my own. I was really happy with how it turned out!

 

While I was cooking, Dad and Jeff chilled out with Roxanne:

 

and Mom found Macbeth, then actually persuaded him to let her pick him up!

Six years we’ve had that cat, and that’s the first time he’s let Mom hold him (and only the third time she’s even seen him!).

 

Shy cat is shy.

 

I was pretty busy cooking all day.  Our final menu ended up being:

Appetizers

• Nasty 1970′s-esque pinwheel things that everyone descends upon like locusts on the wheat crop
• Cranberry-covered goat cheese with sweet-salty crackers
• Bean dip + chips from Jeff’s cousin

Dinner

• Turkey (yay! It worked!  Nom.)
• Mashed potatoes (family recipe) and gravy (Dad’s recipe)
• Sweet potato casserole (adapted from here. And I will never reveal the secret changes.  But it was good.)
• Green bean casserole (adapted from here - no onion crunch topping; I use pearl onions instead and just sprinkle breadcrumbs on top.)
• Olives (TJ’s finest, yo)
• Hot rolls (Grandma’s recipe – it’s like the cinnamon rolls, but not rolled out and just cut into 15, then baked the same)
• Brussels sprouts (loosely based off this; a vast improvement over my usual method of “just steam the fuckers”)
• Salad from Jeff’s cousin

Dessert

• Red velvet cake
• Snowball cookies (I make mine with Ghiradelli mini chocolate chips, and pecans.)

 

None of these people starved to death on Christmas eve:

 

 

After dinner was over and gifts were exchanged and Roxie made an impassioned plea to run away with her new best friend (sorry, Dad.  Roxie’s got a new love, and it’s Jeff’s cousin Paul)…

 

Then everybody left but Mom and Dad, and Jeff and I washed the dishes and settled in for this:

(Christmas Vacation, of course),

 

and this…

(Two Buck Chuck, of course)

 

Well, in no time flat, I was out.

 

Mom and Dad got here at about 9:30 on Christmas morning, and we did our presents then.  Highlights included a dinosaur-bone-sized-rawhide:

Oops!

 

Better.

 

We only let Wozzie nom half of that, because (TMI, but she’s a dog so it doesn’t count) OMG those things give Roxie what we affectionately call The Ass of Doom.  We may be ready to give her the other half sometime in June.  Or maybe next time she’s at Grammy and Granddad’s, so she can stay out in the yard.

 

But she’s happy, so that’s all that matters.

 

In the realm of “gifts which don’t make the recipient fart”, here’s Dad with the rug I latch-hooked for him (to add to his vast collection of elephant stuff):

Funny story, this.

 

I got the kit to make that when I was a young teenager – ’round 2000 or so.  EVERY SINGLE YEAR since then, I’ve undergone the same process:

1)Take out partly-finished elephant latch-hook rug

2)Vow that “This year’s the year!” to finish elephant latch-hook rug

3)Work fervently on elephant latch-hook rug for period of time lasting between two hours and two days

4)Lose all interest in elephant latch-hook rug shortly after realizing latch-hooking is incredibly dull

5)Sort out another Christmas gift for Dad, and stash elephant latch-hook rug away for next year

 

This rug – in its unfinished state – has accompanied me on no fewer than FOUR discrete moves and to THREE separate cities.

 

Funny thing is, though, that when you work on something in fits and starts over the course of eleven (!!!) years, it *will* eventually become finished.  Somehow.  And that’s what happened this year:  with just 1,500 threads left to place, it only took two evenings’ effort to finish.

 

And now I don’t have to move it to California.

 

My parents really outdid themselves this year on our gifts, too: I got an ice cream maker for my KitchenAid, a Tibetan singing bowl:

(which I’ve lusted after since forever ago)

and a bunch of cute clothes from LLBean (have I ever mentioned I like LLBean?) and Life is Good.  Life is good

 

I gave Mom a donation to their favorite animal shelter, and collars for Maxie and Eliza (it’s tradition).

 

Jeff gifted me with a framed print of one of my favorite PRB paintings:

 

and some bling (yo!):

 

and I gave him a personalized bookplate, some handknitted socks (photos forthcoming), books, and assorted video game paraphernalia.

 

Before Mom and Dad headed back to KC, we had cinnamon rolls (Grandma’s recipe), eggs and turkey sausage for brunch, and then Jeff and I spent the rest of the day knitting (me), playing video games (him), and annoying the dog with the singing bowl.  Turnabout is fair play, after all.

 

Of course, there were handknits too (oh so many handknits), but I’ll save that for another post:  this is getting ridiculously long as it is, and I need to get off my duff and go put away Christmas decorations

 

Happy new year!

Again with the miscellany

Tomorrow is the big family Xmas dinner.  My parents are coming into town this afternoon, and they’re staying through Sunday morning.  I still have quite a bit of baking and cooking to do (though, not nearly as much as a few years ago!), so this may be my last post for a few days.  I’ll try and remember to take pictures along the way, though

If I don’t see ya, happy holidays!

And now, random things…

~~~

This year, Target is selling delightful little hat and scarf sets for the kitteh in your life.  And you know I bought one.  And wrestled it onto Macbeth, and then made him pose for pictures with Daddy.

Awwww…look at his little hateface!

There’s something about cute things being full of loathing that I just find absolutely irresistible.  (I’m still talking about the cat, by the way)

He kind of wants me dead now.  You can tell:

And because torturing one hapless beast isn’t enough, of course we had to break out the antlers for Miss Rox.

(Not only is she unhappy about the antlers; she’s also sick to death of watching Chopped and Cupcake Wars.)

Wozzie wasn’t feeling particularly cooperative, though, and eventually she just gave in to her fate…

“Oh, the shame!  Shame, shame, shame…”

Enough of that silliness.  Next!

~~~

Y’all know I’ve got awesome and crafty and housewifely.  So when Morgan approached me with a tricky stain, I was happy to do my best to help.  She had spilled some red wine on a friend’s shirt, and couldn’t get it to come out fully. So I promised to give it a shot: I knew I could make that stain invisible one way or another!

Observe, stained spot:

It’s light, but it’s there (puddle around the black “X”).

I couldn’t get the stain out completely, so decided to do the next best thing:  mask it, in a tasteful way.

So I went to the craft store and found a small, tasteful, subtle patch…

And then I oh-so-carefully applied it to the afflicted area:

Just call me Heloise, bitches.

Can’t even see that stain.  MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.*

~~~

Last but certainly not least, I got a WONDERFUL package in the mail yesterday, from Kathy!  It arrived at the end of a rather tiring and frustrating day – the nicest surprise I could’ve asked for!

Look at all those wonderful goodies!  Some hand towels, cards, super-cute knitting sign (which is now hanging in my craft room ), tea mugs, and beautiful lady!  And the nicest card I’ve ever read.

I haven’t named the lady yet, but here’s where she’s living:

On my dresser, right next to the beautiful mother-of-pearl box that Jen sent me from Korea!  This little space makes me happy

Thank you so, so much Kathy!  Now I must plot my revenge…

~~~

Oops, I forgot – one more thing!  Check out this little bit of Type-A satisfaction:

What’s that?  Oh, just THE MOST PERFECT WRAPPING PAPER SEAM EVER, of course. One in a million shot right there.  The pattern couldn’t have matched up better if I’d tried!

Now that’s beauty.

~~~

*OK, the real story is that when the stain wouldn’t come out, Morgan bought her friend an identical, replacement shirt.  But it was determined that some fun should still be had, anyway.  So I did the above, and Morgan presented it to him with the story of, “I couldn’t fix it, so I hid the stain for you!” before giving him the real replacement.

One down, forty billion to go

…or something.

 

Today I gave one of the first handmade gifts of the season:

 

That is, of course, rageguy.  I found the pattern from Lexysaurus Rex on Etsy and knew it would be perfect for my officemate (he’s an avid Redditer and all-around awesome nerd.).  It was super quick to put together, and the frame really adds a nice touch, I think.  (That’s the same frame type I use for my collection of Rembrandts, coincidentally.)

 

HOWEVER, we should probably be concerned, because Tom said his first suspicion – during the pre-opening present squeezing activities – was that I’d gifted him a framed picture of Rick Astley, or of Goatse*.  I mean, what does he take me for?

 

(Answer: after he told me that, I thought, “Damn!  That would’ve been brilliant!” and tucked the idea away for future gift-giving occasions).

 

PS>I have been alerted that this has been added to Reddit.  Stroke my tiny fragile ego and give it an upvote?

 

~~~
*Don’t Google that, Mom.

Of tie dye and evil

Does it ever happen to you where you’re driving down the road and all of a sudden you notice something that you swear has NEVER BEEN THERE BEFORE, except it always has?  Like a Chinese restaurant in that weird-looking building that used to be a Dairy Queen.  A car wash tucked behind Walgreens.  Or hell, even a McDonalds that your eyes just always automatically skipped over before.

It’s not like those things didn’t exist; you just – for whatever reason – completely failed to notice them every single day until now.  And then for a minute your brain has to do weird little reconciliation tricks, and you feel like a giant idiot, the least-observant person in the whole world.

That’s how I felt on Sunday when I was folding clean laundry.

There I was, going on about my merry business, turning Jeff’s socks rightside-out and fighting a losing battle with pyjama drawstrings and hoodie cords.  Jeff was studying in the office and I had 21 playing in the background.  Roxie was off licking her ass somewhere.  It was all quite idyllic.

As I smoothed out one of the hankies I got from Tama last year, though, I abruptly paused.  I maybe did an overexaggerated cartoon-character head shake.  (cue high-pitched xylophone sound here).

Because – for the first time ever – I saw them, right there on my black tie-dyed handkerchief:

Do you see what I see?

How about now?

No, sillies, it’s not Jesus.  That wouldn’t make any sense at all.  The image imprinted on this hankie is, quite clearly…

Uncanny, isn’t it?

How very, very odd to think that for over a year now, I’ve been occasionally blowing my nose right onto the face of ol’ Annie Skywalker.

Now that you know what the game is, what do you think lives here?

I’ll give you two guesses on this one.  Is it:

a)The virgin Mary

or

b)A badger?

OMG IT’S TOTALLY A BADGER, Y’ALL.  On my black tie-dyed hankie.

Mind (and nose). Blown.*

No one ever got fat from looking at pictures

…but you CAN get very, very fat after eating the turtle cheesecake I made last week:

 

It started as the germ of an idea.  After some mostly-fruitless googling, I had to get all Dr. Frankenstein up in that thing, and set to work creating a monster:

 

THE PERFECT CHEESECAKE.

 

 

You know you want it.

 

So here’s what you do:

 

1)Make a chocolate cheesecake crust and press into your trusty (greased) 9″ springform pan.  (graham crackers or chocolate graham crackers + butter + a bit of sugar + cocoa powder).

 

2)Make caramel sauce (I use 1c butter, 2c sugar, 2t vanilla and 1c heavy cream, but you could half that since I have a LOT left over.  Which I’m using in cinnamon rolls, so you really shouldn’t pity me.).  Be sure not to make it too dark, but not too light either.  (This was actually a bit lighter than I’d have liked, ultimately).

 

3)Pour some caramel sauce over the crust; sprinkle on about 1/2c chopped pecans, stick the whole thing in the fridge.

 

4)Make Nigella’s chocolate cheesecake filling, per the recipe.  Bake it utilizing all of my SUPER SEEKRIT CRACK PREVENTION TRICKS.*

 

5)Make a chocolate ganache (whatever floats your boat. I like to use bittersweet and sometimes a bit of semisweet, cream, and more vanilla).  Let that cool, and drizzle it on top of your cooled cheesecake all willy-nilly.  Finish off with more caramel sauce, too.  And then pecans, because you must.

 

6)Take the whole shebang to work, in honor of a grad student’s birthday.  Be adored forever ‘n’ ever.

 

Kids, never settle for mediocrity.  Always strive to do better.  And you know, it’s no coincidence that “better” is just one letter off from “butter”.

 

 

Now.  Go forth and consume cheesecake.

 

~~~

*OK, since you asked…

Cheesecakes crack for three reasons:  over-mixed filling, abrupt temperature changes, and tension (but then, who DOESN’T crack under tension?).  So, there are three ways to prevent your cheesecake from cracking:

1)Don’t over-mix the filling.  If your ingredients are cold, it will take more time and energy to combine them, thus incorporating more air (air which will then want to escape from your baking cheesecake in the medium of, yes, cracks).  So be sure that your butter, cream cheese, eggs, cream, etc. are all nice and tepid. Room temperature.

 

2)Avoid abrupt temperature changes.  This is why making cheesecake is the awesomest thing ever, and also the bane of my existence:  to do it right, a cheesecake will occupy your oven and your life for at least 6 hours.  See, you can’t just bake a cheesecake and yank it out of the oven and throw it on the counter and call it good.  You have to cool it *very* gradually.  So here’s what I do:  Bake for 1 hour at 350*, in a water bath to add humidity (see below) and to slow the speed at which your cheesecake heats up – if it can’t heat at a uniform rate/distribution, it’ll crack.  When your cheesecake is done, turn the oven off; leave cheesecake set in there for another hour.  At the third hour, open the oven door partway.  At the fourth hour, open the oven door all the way.  At the fifth hour, set the cheesecake on the counter.  At the  seventh (or preferably eighth or even later) hour, stick it in the fridge to keep.  All this means that your oven is tied up and your mission in life for these many hours is to tend a freakin’ baking pan.  Congratulations.  (For what it’s worth, I have been known – in times of great hurry and duress – to speed the cooling increments (second hour onward) by half.  But it makes me twitchy and nervous to do that.  I don’t recommend it, unless you enjoy living life on the edge.

 

3)Tension.  I don’t mean the mental kind (that which leads to cheesecake consumption, not cheesecake creation).  If your cake isn’t free to expand and retract as it needs to, it’ll start sticking to the sides of the pan, and will crack.  So grease the pan.  (That’s a no-brainer). But the water bath is also handy for this:  it will create plenty of wonderful humidity in the oven, as well as helping with the dryness/baking speed thing I talked about above.

 

PS>Next time I’m gonna toast the pecans.

I’ve been knitting on my lunch break…

If I were a wise person, I would put actual Christmas knitting in my goes-with-me-everywhere knitting bag, and I would knit on *that* during my lunch.

 

But I am not a wise person. At all.  (And as you shall learn in just a couple days, I’m also a very smug person.)

 

So instead of working on a gift to be given in less than 20 days, I am knitting socks for my giant-footed cousin: a gift with no deadline or incentive for quick completion whatsoever.

HA! A test!  Here is where the knitters shall be culled from the non-knitters.

 

A non-knitter’s response to the above photo:  ”Yes, that appears to be the leg of a sock, being knitted on funny-looking pink needles.”

 

A knitter’s response to the above photo:  ”GOOD GOD WOMAN, WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK HAPPENED TO YOUR YARNCAKE?”

 

Excellent question, knitters.  And my answer?

 

I have no fucking clue.  But as of right now it’s not behaving as a tangle – the working yarn still feeds from it freely and evenly – so I’m just holding my breath and hoping that it remains so.

 

Please, yarn gods, smile upon me for once.

 

And then he marinated the baby Jeebus in barbeque sauce

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  Just a quick note before we run off to Kansas City…

 

(Actually, as I’m currently sitting here in my bathrobe, having not yet packed our clothes, cleaned the litterbox or fed the cat, I obviously *do* have rather a few other things to do also, before we run off to Kansas City.)

 

Last night I dreamed that one of the older Duggar girls came out as a lesbian – she had the Bieber haircut and gauged ears and looked super cute and happy.  Then I was sightseeing at the library (?) in the National Mall  and the Duggars were there, and I was disappointed because they’d apparently disowned that errant “blessing”.

 

Chalk that one up to “what the hell was I smoking?”  (Answer: nothing.  Nothing except yarn fumes.)

 

YARN FUMES, you ask?

Yes. Yarn fumes:

This is yet more evidence – just in case you still didn’t believe me – of Rachel’s dyeing prowess.  And also her ability to work with a difficult client (ie, me) to create a completely new colorway (ie, this), in a highly stressful situation (ie, what I cause all around me, at all times).

 

Even though I already blabbed and told everyone at knitting last night what this is for, I’m not gonna tell you.  You’ll see soon enough.  It’s super exciting.

 

I LOVE YARN. I LOVE EVERY KIND OF YARN. AND I WANT TO HUG ALL IT, BUT I CAN’T. CAN’T HUG EVERY YARN.  (To the tune of this, obv.)

 

 

Changing topics…

 

My mom and her friend were in town last weekend, and I was FINALLY able to turn this:

(those are neatly-stacked boxes containing all of my Currier and Ives, as well as all our wedding china)

 

Into this…

My parents bought that hutch cabinet about  15 years ago at an antique store. Recently my grandparents gave them their old and awesomely-refinished pie safe, so Mom and Dad passed this along to me.  So now all my china doesn’t have to live in boxes anymore! Yay!

 

(It’s a seriously sad situation: I’ve never had a place for my china before, so since we moved here – in May 2008 - my china has always lived just like in that first picture: securely packed in boxes neatly stacked on the wall where a china cabinet should stand.  It makes me so happy that it’s out where I can see it now!  Just in time to move in 8 months…)

 

While Mom was in town, we went to one of the antique malls on Big Bend.  Which is where I found this gem:

I guess they edited out the part in the Bible where Santa comes to see baby Jeebus.  And looms menacingly over him like he’s a holy snack.  (Hang on, Santa.  The “this is my blood, this is my flesh” stuff happens a few years later. And is symbolic.)

 

I also found this little tchotchke:

Aah, yes.  Horribly racist bullshit.  Wonderful decor for any home!

 

(If I had any photoshop skills at all, I’d copy Helen Killer right now and try out “see it in a room”, with much hilarity as a result.  But I don’t, so you just get to imagine it.)

 

And finally, this dude:

I call him “The Contemplative Friar”, and isn’t he kind of awesome?  I love the look on his face, and the way he holds his violin just….so.  He’s writing holy poetry with music.  But he’s on a mug, so he also has a sense of humor.

 

If The Contemplative Friar is still there next weekend, I may go buy him.  He was only like $4.

 

All right, it’s seriously time for me to go pack and get on the road.  Happy Thanksgiving!  May all your mugs picture happy, fat Catholics, and may none of your kitschy decorations be racist.

 

 

 

My advice: buy stock in Coppertone

When the “Where are youuuuuuuu?!??!?!?!?” comments start rolling in, that’s how I know it’s time to blog again.

My apologies for disappearing for a couple weeks.  Honestly, I’m touched that you missed me.  Or at least, pretended to miss me.  Or didn’t even do that. But all that aside: here I am!

Some stuff that’s been goin’ on:

1)I’ve been plugging along on Christmas knitting. I’m not sure if I’ll hit that arbitrary “by Thanksgiving” deadline, but I’m definitely in good shape to get it all done (and then some!) before the holidays: just 3 moderate-sized projects to go! It helps that the weather has been cool and rainy, which only encourages me to curl up with knitting and ignore everything else I could/should be doing.

2)This weekend I’m going back to Allstar to talk to Nate about my next tattoo.  That’s also going to (probably) be my final tattoo for a while.  I’m super excited for it, and can’t wait for to get it and share it with you.  I think you’ll like it too

3)I hosted a tea party for work people. We had scones and tiny sandwiches and fruit salad and pinwheels and cookies and candies.  It was all quite elegant.  And fattening.

4)Halloween was cool this year.  I wore my costume to work (a first for me).  Can you guess who I was?

How about now?

(That was Jeff’s costume. He refused to dress up, but I have MS Paint so I didn’t need him to, anyway).

Get it?

I was Jen, from IT Crowd!  (And Jeff was involuntarily “my boyfriend who looks like a magician”)

That was supposed to be a group costume – the Roy-ish guy in my department was going to dress like Roy, and I’d been begging the Moss-ish guy to dress like Moss. I’d been nagging him for weeks. I’d offered to procure the costume myself, all he had to do was show up and wear it.

So, of course, the Roy-ish guy did wear his costume, and the Moss-ish guy let us down.  ”Crestfallen” doesn’t even begin to describe it, let me tell you.  What could’ve been epic was only just awesome.  But still.  Halloween FTW.

5)I went to Kampai last night.  This isn’t especially noteworthy or anything, but I just had to brag.  Damn I love Kampai.  My most favorite sushi ever.

6)Jeff got a clerkship and we’re moving to LA next summer.

OK that’s all I know.  Love and puppykisses!

-Kate

.

.

.

…OK, OK, I’ll elaborate on that last one.  Remember the job interview I mentioned in my vlog?  Turns out that went pretty darn well (like we all knew it would; that’s what happens when you’re a Rockstar Law Student).  Jeff got an offer, we accepted it*, and next summer (probably just after he takes the bar in late July), we’re moving to LA for a year.

Y’all know me:  I am NOT an LA type of person.  Like, at all.  At all.  I can confidently state that, based off the advice of multiple friends who are acquainted with the city.  And also with me.  (And no they’re not imaginary).  So in a bid to make me feel better about the whole year-long adventure, a Pinboard was created.  Now I have stuff to do in California, and a bunch of things to look forward to, and it’s only for a year, and then it’ll be awesome.

You (read: I) can do anything for a year:  even live someplace with no appreciable winter and where rain is a Weather Event.

And with something like a 364-day growing season, I’ll be bringing my pressure canner, with plans to CAN ALL THE THINGS!

See? I made a picture:

That’ll be me.

I also made this picture:

Two things:

1)I hate palm trees. I think they’re freaky and ugly and unnatural.

2)I REALLY hate palm trees decorated with Christmas lights.  It’s sad and pathetic and not at all funny or pretty.

I have agreed to follow Jeff to LA, on the condition that we absolutely DO NOT decorate a palm tree with Christmas lights.  And also on the condition that he not make fun of me when we leave LA, and that he fully indulge my need to purchase a couple hundred pint and quart jars.  And fill them with jams and preserves and salsas and who-knows-what-else.

And really, is that so much to ask?

But really, I am still feeling a bit of anxiety about the whole thing.  I’m excited for Jeff’s opportunity and a year’s time to do touristy stuff ‘n’ stuff, but I still have no sense at all for the culture, or the neighborhoods, or anything.  Jeff’s going to be working at the courthouse downtown, and I know that public transit kinda sucks out there (eep! my lifeline!), but I don’t know much more than that.  I’ve heard good things about South Pasadena, FWIW.  And I know that the sushi and vegetarian food is plentiful and good.

We’ll be going out probably sometime in April or May to find housing, but in the meantime…

Any advice, m’dears?

~~~

*The firm that Jeff worked for this past summer is holding his job offer for a year.  This is one of the particulars of the whole Law thing:  firms love it when their associates have the chance to clerk, and are more than happy to let you go do that, while still knowing that you’ve got a job there for after.  Pretty badass, if you ask me.

Hookers and blow are NEVER the answer

Jeff is out of town, and I’m easily bored. And excessively fond of the sound of my own voice.

 

So I made you a video about nothing, so you too may enjoy the sound of my voice.

 

(And you say I never do anything for you…)

 

PS>The cake recipe.  Kara’s version.  Phoenix Rising.  And, in case I’ve inspired you to also abuse your dog:  Roxie’s packpack.

A Muggle’s Guide to Knitterkind: Holiday Edition

We Knitters all know that knitting holiday gifts can be challenging.  The guesswork, the secrecy, the deadlines…it’s been discussed to death.

But Knitters, there’s one holiday-knitting challenge that – to my knowledge – hasn’t been addressed:  how your favorite Muggles may best receive these fruits of your labor.

So this isn’t just another post for the Knitters.  This post is for those whom the Knitters love: the Muggles who are lucky enough to become the owners of thick and cozy socks, warm hats, and beautiful shawls.  Those who are at the periphery of the Knitterverse – who see the knitting and love the knitting and receive the knitting but don’t always understand the knitting – they’re the ones who need this post the most.

Muggles – I implore you to read on, that you may better understand Knitterly ways.  And Knitters – feel free to pass this along to the Muggles in your life.  Then you will thank me, I know it.

 

1.  The Amazing and Magical World of Super Subtle Hints

Hints are the great double-edged sword of gifting.  This is why your Knitter may ask you in June – “How do you feel about nylon content in sock yarn?  Just wondering.  Hypothetically.  Forget I ever said anything.”  Sure, your Knitter is trying her hardest to ensure that you can be surprised by a handmade gift that you’ll also enjoy, but she’s also cautiously testing the waters:  she may even venture to pose a multitude of leading questions, like “Do you like cowls?  What’s your favorite color?  Shoe size?  Do you like angora?  How would you asses your thumbs’ proportion to the rest of your hand?”  Chances are (and I hardly need to tell you this, I’m sure) that at least one of these inquiries is a red herring.*

Want to make the process easier for your knitter?  Feel free to make hints of your own: “You know, I’ve always wanted some purple socks…” will be music to her ears.  But only, dear Muggle, if you make your wishes known - just once – and then drop it.  A nagged Knitter is not an indulgent Knitter.  Be warned.

2.  “I just need to know your calf-to-ankle ratio!”

And then, of course, there’s Knitterly assault:  stealth measuring.  Muggles, have no fear: when your Knitter suddenly accosts you with a tape measure and a mischievous gleam in her eye, it’s less about making a judgment about your girth and more about calculating the cast-on number for 5 stitches per inch.  I promise.  Just let her do her thing.  Ask her no questions, and she’ll tell you no lies.

3.  “Is that for me?” Syndrome

If your Knitter is especially bold and clever, he may play a little trick on you:  knitting your gift right there, out in the open, before your very eyes.  He supposes – probably correctly – that you will never guess that the scrambled pile of lace in his lap is actually two-thirds of a gorgeous silk shawl, destined for your shoulders.  For your own good, then, Muggles: do not try to stop your Knitter. Do not try to distract your Knitter.  Because you never know when the project from which you’re desperately trying to wrench his attention is actually something for you.  And if you piss him off enough, well, it may go to your sister instead.  You’ve been warned.

4.  The Eleventh-Hour Deadline

For many, Christmas Eve is a time of relaxation, merriment, and togetherness.  But to Knitters-who-celebrate-cultural-holidays-of-Judeo-Christian-origin, Christmas Eve is nothing but a major deadline.  Muggles, this year while you’re gathered ’round the piano, singing carols and sipping eggnog and trying to steal Uncle Ernie’s toupee, I ask you to take a moment and remember the person hunched furtively in the corner, weaving in all 2,745 ends on a striped scarf.  Bring this Knitter some mulled wine (not too much, though – that’ll just cause more trouble for everyone).  Give her the easy chair with the best light.  Make her feel loved and included, but don’t try to pull her away from her task.  She’ll thank you for it.

5.  Anticipation

You can find a perfectly nice holiday gift at the mall.  Anyone under the age of 6 can get away with gifting a handprint turkey.  And it doesn’t take a genius to know that gift cards and cash are always fine.  But when a Knitter takes the time to make you something for you, Muggle, you should understand how much goes into it.  Your Knitter has poured many dollars into your gift (often more than you’d think), many hours of his life (often more than you’d think), and great quantities of musing and contemplation (often…etc.).  All for you.  A handknitted gift shows emotional investment.  It shows that your Knitter cares for you enough to dedicate his evenings and weekends and lunch breaks toward making something special and unique just for you.  And then when he’s all done with it, he wraps it up and sets it aside and waits for you to receive it.  If he’s done his job well, you’ll love it.  Your Knitter really put a piece of himself out there, in taking the time to make your gift.  So, please:  if you love the object as much as he loved making it for you, take a moment and thank him.  Otherwise you may not get anything next year.

Muggles, on behalf of Knitterkind I would like to thank you for reading and for (hopefully) taking this to heart.  May your cocoa have extra marshmallows, may you finally nab Uncle Ernie’s toupee, and may all your socks be superwash.

~~~

*Um, unless your Knitter is a real weirdo, that is.