I Am Alpineflower

Random

2009-04-19T16:49:00.000-07:00

It's Sunday, and My Hero took the Doodle to run errands, and I seem to have established a blogging habit, so here I am. Nothing profound, but this is deep:

Heh heh. Actually, this is the snow we got two or three weeks ago. I was all, "would have been nice to get some of this in January or February." Then, it did it again this week! So in the month of April we've gotten something like 20 inches of snow. We had no precipitation at all for January, February and most of March. Unreal.

This is what happens when my daughter dresses herself:

A turtleneck and a linen sunsuit, both on backwards. Oh well. It's a step in the right direction.

I'm knitting all kinds of things - a Christmas stocking for the Doodle, socks, and a cardigan. I might rip the cardigan; I think the yarn's too bulky. I've been the astonished recipient of a ridiculous amount of sock yarn from various Ravelers over the past month - even though I've made a commitment not to buy any yarn until June (at the Estes Park Wool Market), I've increased my sock yarn stash by enough to make at least four pairs of socks, and some fabulous wool roving, to boot.

I'm reading, too - I've discovered Terry Pratchett, who has a slew of books in his Discworld series. I'm working my way through them, both on audiobook and the real paper kind. He's a snarky, allusive, and intelligent writer - I find him most enjoyable. I've also been reading a bunch of post-Evangelical type stuff - Tim Keller, Frank Schaeffer, Internet Monk - but it's stewing and might be a blog post sometime, so I'll leave it at that.

And finally, can anyone tell me how to change the code in my blog so I have more width for my posts? I suck at html. Email me if you know my email address, or leave a comment and I'll get in touch.

Denouement

2009-04-12T19:13:00.000-07:00

If you've been following my Lenten blogging, you'll notice that I've left off a Nouwen quote this week; mostly I'm lazy - I have a few books in the bedroom that I could pick from, but I'm in the living room and can't be bothered. My other reason, though, is that I really have little say today, at the end of my Internet fast. I avoided the web for the most part this week (I don't think renewing library books counts), and I'm happy about that. We were out of town for most of the week, which helped. And which also made me tired - in all honesty, I don't have the energy today to come up with some profound observation about the mystic implications of my fast.

I am glad I did this. The past 40 days or so have been one of the most meaningful Lenten experiences of my sacramentalist life. I am particularly struck right now with the way my discipline and my regular life coexisted - it wasn't ever a case of "now I'm fasting, and when I'm done I'll take out the trash", but it was both living and - dare I say worshiping? - at the same time. This is one of aspects of Christian life that I've always known about but had a hard time living. I tend to be black and white, either/or, pro and con. Both/and is a difficult concept for me, particularly in areas like "pray continually" or "give thanks in all things". But when worship or prayer or thanksgiving can be reinterpreted as silence or solitude or grace, I have an easier time integrating those activities with my daily life.

I don't know what I'll do from here. A quick check of my post history will show you that this is the first time I've blogged regularly, and while I enjoy being consistent, I don't know whether I'll continue to be so. Blogging feels really narcissistic to me, especially when it reads more like a journal than an update on my kid and knitting. I don't mind a little narcissism from time to time in the privacy of my spiral notebook, but there's an awful lot of upper-case I's in this post, and it's bothering me. All that to say, I will probably continue to post updates on the family and knitting, and I hope to pound out an introspective essay periodically, but it won't be all about me all the time (and cheers go up from the crowd).

Thank you for all your kind comments, feedback, and for just reading with me on this journey - it's been all kinds of fun, and I look forward to doing it again!

He is Risen!

Sacrifice

2009-04-05T08:28:00.000-07:00

"To live...in the spirit of Jesus Christ means to reach out from the midst of our pains and to let them be turned into joy by the love of him who came within our reach. We do not have to deny or avoid our loneliness, our hostilities and illusions. To the contrary: When we have the courage to let these realities come to our full attention, understand them and confess them, then they can slowly be converted into a solitude, hospitality and prayer. This does not imply that a mature spiritual life is a life in which our old lonely hostile self with all its illusions simply disappears and we live in complete serenity with a peaceful mind and a pure heart. Just as our adulthood shows the marks of the struggles of our youth, so our solitude bears the signs of lonely hours, our care for others reflects at time angry feelings and our prayer sometimes reveals the memory and the presence of many illusions." - Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

Dudes. Lent is long. I'm not a very disciplined person anyways - I rarely make my bed, I never floss, and I can't stop saying "crap". I also have a track record of being successful at an endeavor initially, then getting cocky, slacking off, and ending up with a less-than-stellar performance. So. You know what's coming: I have been, uh, somewhat less disciplined with my fast this week. I've surfed, I've looked up stuff, I've had important things to take care of - all on the web.

For me, this is what Lent is really about: seeing my complete inability to save myself. I mean, my golly, if I can't stay off the internet for forty days, how do I keep myself from sin in the more general (and, to be realistic, more important) arenas? By the time Holy Week comes around, I always have this very present reminder of why I'm thankful for Christ's sacrifice on my behalf. It's more poignant to relive the events of Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday and Good Friday when you can see your own inability to give up your life, even on a small scale.

I've been trying to convince myself that Lent ends on Palm Sunday - I looked it up, and it does end on the Friday before Palm Sunday in the Eastern Orthodox tradition. However, I'm not Eastern Orthodox, and really, I'm just trying to have a reason to give up my discipline early. But considering what He did for my sake, I think I'll make it another week without the internet for His sake. It's a grace that I have a hard time accepting, this offer to pick myself up and try again with "no condemnation", but for me, that's what Lent's about. Sacrifice. And sin. And grace. In that order.

Rest

2009-03-29T19:10:00.000-07:00

"As hard as it is to believe that the dry desolate desert can yield endless varieties of flowers, it is equally hard to imagine that our loneliness is hiding unknown beauty. The movement from loneliness to solitude, however, is the beginning of any spiritual life because it is the movement from the restless senses to the restful spirit, from the outward-reaching cravings to the inward-reaching search, from the fearful clinging to the fearless play." - Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

See that snow? We got a foot on Thursday. It's our first precipitation of the year, and the only really significant snowfall of the season. It's been sunny since late December, and I've been exhausted. If you know me, you know that I need - truly need - cloudy weather to center myself and be productive. Continual sunshine makes me feel scattered and frantic. I feel pressured to run errands, play outside, do all kinds of things - a midwestern reaction to sunshine that gets blown out of proportion now that I live in Denver, in a town that gets 300 days of sunshine a year (more like 350 - not that I'm counting or anything).

So the snow day was a reprieve for me. I was able to rest. We didn't go anywhere once the snow started flying, I made bread all afternoon and we had slow-cooked beef stew for dinner, and I got a lot of knitting done. Finally!

My state of exhaustion has been exacerbated lately because the Doodle has been in the habit of waking up for a couple hours every night, crying at the bottom of the stairs (she sleeps in the basement and we sleep upstairs), "Mama, come down!" in a piteous little voice. I spent part of Wednesday night on the couch and part of it in her bed, while she slept in my bed. No one slept well. She and I have both been crabby all week - according to My Hero, I've been worse than she has. I've had to say "I'm sorry" a lot, and she's been in Time Out a lot.

What does this have to do with Nouwen and Lent and giving up the Internet, you ask? Just this: even though I had so little sleep on Wednesday night, when we started our day on Thursday with gray, restful skies and the assurance that we wouldn't have to do much, our day was quiet, comparatively harmonious, and fulfilling for me. When I am rested - physically this week, but emotionally, mentally and spiritually as well - I am calmer and able to provide for those who ask something of me. Rest and stillness provide me with the solitude of the heart that Nouwen constantly refers to - not necessarily a physical isolation, but an inner resting place that gives me the resources I need to be productive and nurturing. Sure, I can operate without rest for a while, but when I do so, my resources are limited and I feel frantic, frenzied, jittery.

I find that for me, rest does not usually mean vegging out in front of the TV or taking a nap or reading trashy novels. I do all those things quite frequently (hooray for Battlestar Galactica!), but it's usually a verbal rest that I need. Spending all day with a two-year-old takes a lot of talking! Giving up the internet has cut down my word consumption too, and it's been such a blessing in that regard. If I need to rest, to center my soul and relax, I am drawn to the nonverbal - knitting, or cooking, or sketching. Things that involve my body and my mind, but not my vocabulary. Then I can come back to my book or my daughter or my computer and engage meaningfully.

Rest is closely linked with solitude and silence - I considered naming this post "Silence", but have been focusing on rest a lot more this week, probably because I've gotten so little. I have become very aware of how my restfulness affects my attitude and how I treat those around me. I've been convinced of my need to rest more often, in order to reach out from a place of fullness and peace. I'm also quite sure that this culture we live in (and which is promoted on the internet I've given up) abhors the silence and self-knowledge that accompanies rest, and does everything in its power to minimize and demonize our need for rest. Ever try to find a free, quiet, relaxing indoor place that isn't your own home? Hotel lobbies and libraries are all I can think of. How sad that we have to fight to rest. I will, though. Rest allows me to hear from God, to be healed of my wounds, and to fill my heart with solitude, so that I can serve my family and friends humbly and joyfully. It's worth the struggle.

Excess

2009-03-22T15:39:00.000-07:00

"It is not so difficult to see how 'reactionary' we tend to be: that is, how often our lives become a series of nervous and often anxious reactions to the stimuli of our surroundings. ... it seems of great importance to know with an experiential knowledge the difference between an action that is triggered by a change in the surrounding scene and an action that has ripened in our hearts through careful listening to the world in which we live. The movement from loneliness to solitude should lead to a gradual conversion from an anxious reaction to a loving response. Loneliness leads to quick, often spastic, reactions which make us prisoners of our constantly changing world. But in solitude of heart we can listen to the events of the hour, the day and the year and slowly 'formulate,' give form to, a response that is really our own. In solitude we can pay careful attention to the world and search for an honest response." - Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

I've been thinking a lot over the past few months about pendula. Or, more accurately, how common it is (among my friends anyways) for people to swing like a pendulum from one viewpoint to an opposite one. If our family raised us as "good evangelical conservatives" and we don't feel comfortable with that, we lean toward something less evangelistic and more liberal. If our background includes emotional distance, we often respond with emotional neediness. If we are lonely, we do whatever we can to fill our lives with people, noise and activity.

Even though these circumstances and reactions are opposite, they have one thing in common: they represent excess. They demonstrate the swinging of our personal pendula, when "perfect peace and rest" is found most often in the center, in a middle ground between the two opposing ideas. I've been struck by Nouwen's observations about reaction and response as it relates to this concept of excess - when I react, I generally do so in excess of what the situation warrants: if I don't want the Doodle to feel suffocated, I leave her to her own devices, and conversely, if I feel like I'm not spending enough time with her, I dedicate so much time to her that I'm burned out and grumpy at the end. A more moderate solution would be to spend several smaller chunks of time with her throughout the day, so that we both would enjoy each other's company and our solitude. Moderation takes thought and deliberation; I have to be attentive and responsive to her moods and needs so that we can both spend our time well.

This sense of constantly overcompensating, always missing the mark is part of the human condition: since the Garden of Eden, we have wanted what we don't have. We think that if we just tweak this behavior, or eliminate this problem, things will be good. The grass is always greener, and we say to ourselves, "If I only had/were/did something else, I could be at rest." So we work the longer hours, we get another degree, we vote for a different party, we buy the bigger house, we espouse a different doctrine, and nothing contents us. This "longing for home", as Frederick Buechner puts it, is a legitimate longing that can only find its fulfillment in Christ (N.T. Wright also discusses this at length in his book Simply Christian). Just as a pendulum longs to rest at the center, pulled to stillness by the force of gravity, so we long for the quiet rest of God's peace.

Ironically, giving up the internet for Lent has caused me to swing to excesses. I gave up the internet because I was bothered by how much time I was spending online, doing nothing constructive. Now, though, I make it through my week and then gorge myself on Sundays on all the blogs and emails and threads that I "must" catch up on before the end of the day. As a result of being "chronic" (a term my husband and his friends use for hours- or days-long video gaming), I'm cranky, distracted and mostly absent from my family on Sundays. I've been thinking hard about how this abstinence will affect me after Lent is over; I hope that I'll be able to be more moderate in my surfing, not swinging from fast to binge, but using this medium as a tool when I need it and not just indiscriminately or compulsively. And it's made me more aware of the excesses I allow into my life when I'm operating from a frenzied place of reaction (which is most of the time) instead of the quiet of solitude. When will I recognize that binging on anything, be it the internet, lunch dates, or Girl Scout cookies will not bring me the fulfillment and satisfaction that a moderate, thoughtful enjoyment of the gifts I've received will? As the pendulum slows, and the heart settles into its solitude, God promises an abundant, rich and meaningful life. That's the life I want. That's the direction I want to head.

Vocation

2009-03-15T19:05:00.001-07:00

“God is not necessarily asking you difficult or profound things – to go on missions or to give all your money away – that seldom happens. God is usually saying, ‘Why don’t you do this little thing: just don’t get so mad with your wife’, or ‘Maybe you should start reading a book’. It suddenly becomes clear to you, very clear, ‘That this little thing I really should do.’ It’s amazing when you do one or two a day of these tiny little things. It starts carving a new place in your life and you find yourself – introspectively – having made a whole journey.” – Henri Nouwen, Beloved

I’ve always struggled with knowing what it is God is calling me to. I’ve lived my entire life in an environment where God calls people to “The Ministry” or “Missions” – a calling from God generally resulted in extensive sacrifice for the average Christian, or, if you were really spiritual, you might heed God’s call with joyful obedience. Generally, I’ve avoided asking God what I should do with my life because I haven’t wanted to know the answer. I’ve pictured Him rubbing His hands together: “Okay, boys, now that we’ve got her, should we send her to deepest Africa, or should she be a pastor’s wife at the most dysfunctional church we’ve got?”

On one level this is obviously a trust thing – do I trust God to know how I can best be used by Him, and allow Him to use me that way? But hearing God’s call is also about the contemplative life, making space and time to listen for those very small calls that make a vocation. Vocation is born from silence – “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”

This Lent is about my experience giving up the Internet. As I realized last week, however, I’m very skilled at keeping myself occupied, even if it doesn’t involve DSL. This week has been no different; my mom came into town for a week on Wednesday, and we spent Friday and Saturday painting the bedroom. But this week, I’m noticing more my need for solitude, and the Voice I’m missing out on because so much else is clamoring for my attention. Having company tends to do this to me anyways, and I think it’s more prominent because of my Lenten discipline. I know that God wants to speak to me through this fast, and I feel the time slipping away – I am not making the effort I should (should! Again with the guilt!) to set aside quiet, contemplative time. Tomorrow, I say to myself. Tomorrow I’ll do devotions, I’ll listen for God’s calling, I’ll discover what it is I’m supposed to be doing with my life.

I can sense the depth, I can almost feel the richness. The vision has been cast: what Life could be like if I would die to myself. Maybe God isn’t calling me to Africa. Maybe my vocation is just loving my daughter, or playing outside, or having lunch with someone who’s intriguing me. Maybe it’s all those things. This is my chance to stop and find out.

Solitude

2009-03-08T14:14:00.000-07:00

"Solitude is the furnace of transformation. Without solitude we remain victims of our society and continue to be entangled in the illusions of the false self. ... Solitude is the place of the great struggle and the great encounter - the struggle against the compulsions of the false self, and the encounter with the loving God who offers himself as the susbstance of the new self." - Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart

I was pleased to have solitude this week. I have had very intermittent work over the past several months, and this week was no exception: The Doodle was at daycare for three days, and I was at home by myself. I love having the time to get things done, to meet with friends, to just think. The additional isolation of no internet meant I would be even more productive and self-aware, right? No blogs to read, no email to check, no celebrity foibles to laugh at - Susie Homemaker was in for her comeuppance. Dr. Phil, too.

Or something.

Sure, I read a couple books, finished a couple knitting projects, had dinner on the table every night. I played with the Doodle, I learned how to knit two socks at the same time on one circular needle, I exercised regularly, I even wrote a note to a friend whom I've been meaning to write to for over a year.

In short, I did everything I could to avoid my solitude.

Nouwen predicts this - I ran away from solitude in an effort to deny my "naked, vulnerable, weak, sinful, deprived, broken" real self, choosing instead to "restore my false self in all its vainglory."

I've been thinking a lot about my identity and where my value lies, especially as I've looked for a job and contemplated staying home full-time. The struggle between accepting (by the grace of God) my real self and assessing my value (or lack thereof) by my work, my family and my friends has been real and difficult over the past few weeks. So it kills me that I had three days at home by myself with nothing to do but consider my value as the Beloved of God, and I chose instead to mop the floor. Not that mopping the floor has no value (especially when it's done as seldom as it is at our house), but I know that what I need right now is to sit at Jesus' feet.

I ended my week dissatisfied. I have very little solitude to look forward to in the next few weeks, and I had cheated myself of some serious self-examination, which is the whole point of Lent. There was also the incessant temptation to hop on the net - What's the weather? What's our account balance? And for goodness' sake, how's the poor Sri Lankan cricket team holding up? I persevered this week, and I have hope that I will continue to do so, but as I wryly noted to myself, it's distressing to discover that merely eliminating the internet from my week is not enough to make me holy. What do you know?! I can't do it all by myself!

Of course, this is what Lent is all about - remembering that from dust we have come and to dust we shall return. Victory is not ours, but His - every victory. So I suppose it would be just as apt to say that while I am dissatisfied with my "performance" this week, I am thankful for a God that honors my meager efforts, that helped me find those flashes of solitude that did come up. Just as I am perfectly content with my daughter's efforts to put away the clean silverware from the dishwasher (even if it means the spoons are with the forks and the butter knives all face the wrong way), my Lord is content with my fumbling attempts to hear His calling and to spend more time with him. It is, after all, a process, and requires practice to get better at it.

Lent, and an Irony

2009-03-01T12:28:00.000-08:00

If you are ever in contact with me in any other way on the web, like email or Facebook, you probably know by now that I've decided to give up the Internet for Lent. For those of you who only follow my blog, you may wonder what difference it will make, since I post so rarely anyways. It's a valid point. I keep trying to be better about posting, but I mostly find I have nothing to say.

The irony of giving up the internet for Lent is that it's providing me with lots of blog fodder. The church fathers had the foresight to allow for Sundays (Feast Days) off from Lenten disciplines, which is fortunate for me on a lot of levels: I can keep my emails and blogrolls manageable, and I can write down the things I need to check out online so that when Sunday rolls around, I'm not only celebrating Christ's resurrection (which is the point of the Feast Day - how can you fast when the Bridegroom is with you?), I'm also able to get my various questions answered that I have been accumulating throughout the week.

Lent started Wednesday. It's Sunday, and I've had some pretty major withdrawal, but in a good way. We've put the computer in the loft, so it's less accessible in general and doesn't draw my attention. I still wonder every day what's in my inbox, and whether my secret swap partner on Ravelry has emailed me to tell me that I'm getting a package in the mail this week, but I also have the "time" to play with the Doodle more attentively and do some stuff around the house that I would normally put off. I've also rediscovered Henri Nouwen this week, which is excellent timing - he's all about solitude and silence as means to build community and to serve, and between the internet being gone and me still being without work, I've got lots of solitude and silence these days.

I'm hoping I'll post here every Sunday between now and April 1, sometimes with pictures (I'm getting loads more knitting done too!), but with some kind of reflection on the prior week and what my web silence has been teaching me. It's an odd way to observe a Holy Lent, since traditionally it's considered tacky at best to tell people what you're giving up, but this is an odd season in my life, and this is a way for me to document it. Narcissistic? Possibly. Cathartic? Probably. But growth is not achieved in isolation, no matter how self-aware you may become there. Blogging is a way to connect to a community, and community is absolutely imperative for growth. So. Let's dive into the stillness of Lent together.

Just Because It's Funny the First Time

2009-02-10T12:26:00.000-08:00

The Doodle is getting into a habit that was funny last night, and annoying this afternoon. Last night, after My Hero put her to bed, we heard her rustling around downstairs, and a little later there was some really-and-truly crying. He went down to investigate; he found her in her room, in the process of changing her pajamas. We'd put her in a snap-up sleeper, and she'd shed it in favor of some fleece footie pants and top. Problem was, she couldn't get the top on. She was standing by her closet, crying, "It's too hawd f'me." Cutest thing ever.

Until just now, when I find her trying to put on a random assortment of clothing when she should be taking her nap. Bedtime tonight will include a short lecture on "why we don't get out of bed once we're put in it." And I think I'll put away her laundry this afternoon, too.

What if

2009-02-05T17:06:00.000-08:00

The Doodle watches Disney's Cinderella somewhat regularly - talking mice and no scary witches - and both of us can recite large portions off from memory. Whenever I've seen a movie enough times to know the plot well, I start speculating:
What if Cinderella had been able to go to the ball in her pink dress? Would the prince have noticed her if she'd shown up with Anastasia and Drusilla?
What if she had realized during the first dance that she was dancing with the prince? Would she have told all and averted the subsequent hunt?

Et cetera. I love speculating what-ifs, even about my own life. It's purely idle, but interesting to consider nonetheless. What if My Hero and I had opted to not get together? What if our original daycare situation had worked out two years ago? What if...?

That thing that's a virtue

2009-01-24T09:37:00.000-08:00

In 2007, around Thanksgiving, I was laid off from the hospital I'd worked at for almost five years. I got six weeks of severance, and found a job at a construction company as their office manager that started the week my severance ran out.

In 2008, around Thanksgiving, I was laid off from the construction company job. No severance this time - I'm lucky to get paid for the hours I'm there, the way things have been lately. Dude, looking for work sucks. Starbucks isn't even hiring.

So this week I found a good-looking job and sent in my resume and got a response (which is better than I've gotten with any of the other jobs I've applied for) and have been looking forward to interviewing for it. But this morning I finally heard back from the hiring director and she's away until mid-February and won't be interviewing for the position until then. So...I supposeI keep looking and applying and see if something shows up in the interim.

During both holiday seasons when I've been between jobs, God has said to me very clearly, "Wait". So I guess I will. I'm not very good at waiting - I prefer to fill my time with something(anything, really) so I can either stop waiting or at least stop thinking about what I'm waiting for - but the past couple weeks, I've had the, uh, opportunity to practice waiting, and it's not so bad. My Hero and I have been talking about what it means to be living in the present; we both tend to talk about the present as the thing to be gotten through in order to reach whatever is on the horizon. Lately that's been grad school and a big garden, but we've both been reminded in the past week or two that our future is shaped by our present - if we're just impatiently muddling through our present, won't that impact our future?

So I'll work harder at enjoying my time to myself on the days G is in daycare, and playing hard on the days she's home with me. I'll get a job one of these days, and everything else will take care of itself.

"Don't worry about tomorrow; tomorrow has enough trouble of its own."
"Life is what happens when you're making other plans."

Triumph

2009-01-02T12:59:00.000-08:00

No, not the Insult Comic Dog. I mean my first attempt at freezer-paper stenciling. Our niece and nephew got t-shirts this Christmas; I bought them at the thrift store (do you know how hard it is to find t-shirts with nothing on them??), picked up a couple bottles of acrylic and 150 square feet of freezer paper, and voila:

Our nephew is way into sprinklers, the way most four-year-old boys are into dinosaurs or trucks.

Now I'm itching to stencil something on all my t-shirts, and those of my immediate family as well...

A Girl and Her Papa

2008-12-22T19:23:00.000-08:00

The Doodle loves spending time with her papa. Sometimes when he comes home from work she's not prepared for the transition - she cries and tells him to go away. But I've been reminding her right before he gets home that she needs to be nice to Papa, and she always is if she's reminded. The weekends are glorious - Papa is way more fun than Mama, probably merely by virtue of being gone more often. I also think, though, that My Hero has the ability to Play with this little human of ours more readily than I do. I'm all about the chores and the tasks - "put the little toy girl on the merry-go-round where she belongs (see in the picture on the box?)", as opposed to "let's pretend the little girl's in timeout; now give her a hug and let her get up."

He has taught her the merits of eating snow; I stress out about parasites and dog pee.

He sits with her in front of the fire and teaches her how to warm her hands; I make supper.

Obviously this isn't a super-balanced picture of how things are in our house - I happen to make superior kitties out of Play Doh, for instance - but I love how they play together.

His grandmother is dying; she's 101, so it's been a good life. It's hard to watch her die, though. We went to the hospice tonight to see her, but she's unconscious and her systems are shutting down. We'll miss her.

Cardigan

2008-12-14T10:40:00.000-08:00

I knew it.

You Are a Cardigan

You are traditional, old-fashioned, and even a little conservative.

More than anything else, you are a creature of habit. You haven't changed much over the years.

You shy away from flashy ideas, people, fashion, and foods.

You have simple tastes. You go for established quality and longevity every time.

What Kind of Sweater Are You?

I particularly like the juxtaposition of the photo with the first line of text. I'd like to say right now that I never wear my cardigans that way.

Chicks for the Chick

2008-12-10T08:56:00.000-08:00

When we were in Illinois in October, my mom and brother and I took the Doodle to a farm to pick up some apples, and they also had a few animals you could check out. The Doodle thought the chickens were terrific:

Can you see it in her body language? Big smile on the other side of that head.

I'm glad she likes chickens, because I've been reading this guy's books. He's convincing me that if we only had a little yard, we could raise our own pasture-fed chickens. Someday...

Acquisitions

2008-12-05T20:00:00.000-08:00

So I just learned how to schedule posts to be published, and can now do a whole bunch of them in one sitting, instead of laboring over a gigantic one for a week and then dropping off the face of the planet for four months. Annie should be proud!

This summer I made a couple of purchases that I'm particularly pleased with. The first was my Mother's Day gift to myself: a refurbished KitchenAid 5 quart mixer! I bought it off Ebay - a first for me - and although I don't use it nearly as much as I wish I did, it's become very handy with all the bread-baking I'm doing using this book. Now I need to go buy more yeast...

I also succumbed to Ravelry and bought a couple of pint glasses from their store - one says "ripped" and one says "frogged", the idea being if you have to do either, you'll need a pint nearby. I found it appropriate that the glasses were packed in newspaper that had an article about beer.

Crossed Ankles

2008-12-03T20:00:00.000-08:00

This kid is so freaking cute. She sits like this all the time, with her little ankles crossed. In this picture, she is wearing her new (at the time - a month or two ago) pink trench coat which she refused to take off for several hours. She gets tons of compliments on it; I wish trench coats looked so cute on me. She is also watching Disney's Cinderella, her favorite movie. She calls Cinderella "Toolas", for reasons we cannot understand. She'll watch the whole thing in one go if I let her, but usually it's just 20 or 30 minutes at a time while I'm working on dinner or something like that.

Big-Girl Bed

2008-11-30T19:02:00.000-08:00

The Doodle has a new bed. It is not an understatement to say that not having bars surrounding her while she sleeps has revolutionized bedtime. She always confirms that bedtime will involve her big-girl bed and hardly makes a peep about going downstairs to read stories, sing songs and pray, compared to her previous routine of wailing pitifully for a good 15-20 minutes after being put in her crib. We put the bed up in early October and the novelty has still not worn off.

As Good As

2008-11-26T08:44:00.001-08:00

Since I'm hosting Thanksgiving tomorrow and things are going to be hectic, I'll take a second today to say Happy Thanksgiving! I'm thankful for my family, my house, and the Pioneer Woman's incredible illustrated Thankgiving recipe collection.

Here's one who I'm particularly thankful for:

Quick! While the baby's asleep!

2008-10-28T06:42:00.001-07:00

Wow - it's been a while. We've had a busy few months! In August we went to Philadelphia to visit family, and enjoyed the Jersey Shore courtesy of My Hero's sister-in-law's parents (thanks, Doppity & Boggy!). The Doodle thought the waves were scary at first, but then she discovered thousands of tiny little clams in the wet sand, and the water wasn't so bad anymore. We had donuts every morning, the weather was fantastic, and we engaged in a silent battle over the thermostat all week with the aforementioned Dop & Bog. All in all, a satisfactory vacation.

In September, the Doodle and I started back up with Music Together, which she loves. We participated in the spring session, and she had just started warming up to the teacher and the other kids when the session ended. We took the summer off, and I was worried she'd have forgotten about it all, but she was so excited! "Class? Class?" She gives hugs to the teacher and sometimes to the other kids during the farewell song ("And how about a hug or a handshake for a friend..."), and is getting the hang of all the singing and clapping. We go every Tuesday; I need to register for the winter quarter, but I'm also looking for a Mommy & Me yoga class or something along those lines, holding off on Music Together until next spring again.

At the end of September we took our annual trip up to Guanilla Pass to check out the aspens - we timed it perfectly this year! Usually when we've gone, it's still pretty green or all the leaves have fallen, but everything on both sides of the pass was beautiful and golden. It was really breathtaking. We even took a little hike!

We went back to Illinois at the beginning of October for Wheaton's Homecoming - it was our 10-year reunion. It was great to see old friends and spend time with people we don't get to see very often. The Doodle got her own alma mater hooded sweatshirt, which she loves, and which I don't have a picture of. Autumn in the midwest is so lovely. Aspens notwithstanding, Colorado just can't beat it.

And I've been knitting! I'm way behind on my pictures; here's my Tangled Yoke Cardigan that I finished in May. It's too big for me, and I'm not happy with the neckline, but it's my first adult-sized sweater, and it looks like one, so I'll take what I can get.

Elsebeth Lavold Silky Wool in Columbine (five skeins)
Size 42"
From Interweave Knits Fall 2007

Here's the February Baby Sweater that I did in June. I'd just like to take a moment to say how much I love this pattern, and the yarn too! By far my favorite knit of 2008.

Brooks Farm Fourplay in Scarlet (1 skein, with almost enough left over for socks)
Knit on size 5 needles - fits a 3-month-old (I hope!)
From A Knitter's Almanac by Elizabeth Zimmerman

There's a whole bunch of other knitting going on for Christmas which I obviously can't blog about, and I'm also working on Christmas stockings for our mantel and a pair of socks for myself. I had a month or two in the summer where I didn't want to knit at all, so I read a lot. Now I'm back into it full-bore and getting all kinds of things done.

I have more to say, but I'm out of time, and maybe if I save it I'll blog more often. :)
ETA - the baby woke up about a month ago. I'm so behind on the blogging thing it's embarrassing. It's the whole "If you put it off you'll have so much to do that it's overwhelming and you'll put it off some more" thing. Like housework. Or dishes. Or reading for school. Oy.

In Which There Are, Yet Again, No Pictures

2008-08-13T20:11:00.000-07:00

I keep saying to myself that I'll blog when I get pictures downloaded to Flickr - the knitting! the cute Doodle! - but it just doesn't happen. So, another words-only blog post.

This is what I've been pondering for the past couple weeks: I pulled into a WalMart parking lot the other week and ran over some shopping detritus with my car. I didn't pay attention to it until I was going to get back in the car, and saw that it was the (empty) box for a pregnancy test kit (one of the few times I wish I had a camera phone!). Questions immediately leapt to mind: did she take the test in the bathroom at WalMart, or just squat next to the car, or just unwrap it and then take the stick home? Did it come out positive or negative? Was it good or bad news? But mostly, what was the sequence of events here? How did the packaging end up in the parking lot? This has been plaguing me for at least two weeks.

I clearly need to get out more. Or maybe stay in more, I don't know.

What I Did Yesterday

2008-07-10T14:49:00.000-07:00

One of the bloggers I read has a daughter a few months older than the Doodle (aka G - the Doodle takes too long to type), and has written annual “A Day in the Life” posts about motherhood. Since it’s been ages since I’ve blogged, I thought I might try it myself. Yesterday was a good day:
7:15 a.m. – get out of bed and shower before G gets up.
7:30 a.m. – G gets up. We discover that Papa ate the last of the oatmeal, so I start some steelcut oats on the stove and we say goodbye when he heads off for work. General picking-up and morning chores commence. I start a load of laundry (towels – we do the other stuff all in one fell swoop on the weekends).
7:55 a.m. – Oats with honey is served. And also milk.
8:15 a.m. – Breakfast is done. Change out of oaty pajamas and wet diaper into dayclothes. Caillou is usually reserved for afternoon hissy fits, but I have stuff I need to get done, so G gets to watch some on Netflix.
8:30 a.m. – I’m making bread – honey whole-wheat. God bless Kitchen-Aid.
8:50 a.m. – Caillou is over and the bread is rising; we head to the grocery store. G campaigns for a balloon, but manages to avoid pulling off the impulse-buy products at the checkout counter.
9:45 a.m. – Home to punch down the bread dough (me) and play with the balloon (her). By the time I clean up the kitchen, it’s time to bake the pizza crust, and when that’s done, the bread loaf is ready to go in.
10:30 a.m. – Rescue the laundry. I transfer all my knitting books from the loft to the basement where my yarn is, then we play in G’s room. She reads books on the rocking chair and I sit on the floor and knit on a sock until the timer goes off for the bread.
11:15 a.m. – The bread is lovely! Too hot to eat right now, though. We have farmer’s market bread with a yummy lentil spread, and strawberries for lunch.
12:00 p.m. – Playtime. I wash some dishes that had been soaking.
12:30 p.m. – Reading books and checking email.
1:15 p.m. – Naps.
2:30 p.m. – G is awake already – she’s been sleeping for over two hours all week, and this messes me up, since I’ve become accustomed to a couple hours of rest (or Arrested Development) in the afternoon. Apparently it messes her up too – she’s whiny and cranky now. We have a snack (puffy rice crackers and milk) and read a few books to make the transition.
3:30 p.m. – I need to work on dinner. I fill the sink with water and bring the bath toys to the kitchen so G can play while I cook. This is effective for about 45 minutes, until she starts submerging all the towels I put around her, then pulling out the drain stopper.
4:15 p.m. – Caillou, anyone? I never let G watch TV twice in one day, but she’s so clingy and whiny, if I don’t I can’t finish dinner. And I’m not really in the mood for that. I’ve been too busy today, and it’s beginning to show.
4:50 p.m. – Dinner is in the oven with a blueberry cobbler to go in when it’s done. Caillou is pretty good.
5:10 p.m. – Papa comes home! Hooray! We’re both happy to see someone else. Dinner is ready, a little rough-housing takes place, and we eat. I get stressed out when he reminds me that we have to take his parents’ van back to their house after supper.
5:45 p.m. – N’s brother calls from PA – they (four of the five) have birthdays in the summer, so we are regaled with descriptions of parties and presents from the 5 and 3 year old niece and nephew. N arranges to call his brother back after we get back from taking the van back – which means I have to put G to bed, something I’d been looking forward to getting out of. Now I’m getting cranky.
6:15 p.m. – We borrowed the van because N picked up a couple of free four-drawer file cabinets at work. We schlep them into the house and head over to his folks’ house with our blueberry cobbler – they always have something that goes well on top of fruit desserts, and they do not disappoint. Mmm, frozen Cool Whip (“Sauce?” G asks. “Sauce?” She doesn’t want the cobbler, just the white sauce on top.)
7:00 p.m. – Drive home, stopping for gas. Ugh, $50 for 13 gallons. On the upside, our mileage was an attractive 32 mpg this week, thanks to highway driving and hypermiling.
7:30 p.m. – N calls his brother to say he’ll call him back another day, and puts G to bed when it’s clear that I’m not in the mood. I clean up the kitchen and try to troubleshoot our internet connection.
8:00 p.m. – It’s a good bedtime – she only screams for a couple minutes and then goes to sleep. N and I move one of the file cabinets up to the loft where it will replace our old, crappy broken-down one.
8:30 p.m. – The computer fixes itself and we settle in for a few episodes of The Office. We’re in the midst of Season 3, and had to endure the torture of Phyllis’s wedding (oh, the cringing!), but the rest of it was great. We’re watching instantly on Netflix – the best $8.99/month we’ve ever spent. They send us DVDs, but now that we’re through with Battlestar Galactica for a while (sob), we’re just watching The Office online and Caillou.
10:00 p.m. – Head to bed. We’ve taken to reading in bed; he’s reading The Gunslinger by Stephen King, and I’m working my way through Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset – I’m almost done with the second book! Only 300 pages to go! Book club is August 9!
10:30 p.m. – Lights out. Except I can’t sleep, partly because the kitchen is still a disaster – we didn’t finish washing up after dinner. I contemplate getting up at 11:15 to do dishes, but decide against it. I fall asleep around midnight.

Re-reading this, I feel more confident about my parenting, in spite of the double-dose of small animated Canadians. I'm a fan of idle parenting and have been told by numerous sources that G is coming along quite nicely. I think if I'd spent all day knitting and didn't do anything more immediately productive I might feel differently about it, but G and I tend to have a pretty good time together, when we've both had enough sleep. I've also noticed that it seems that we do watch a lot of TV - I don't think we do (I know we're below the national average), but when we get addicted to a show, we have to watch all of it at once. I think once we've caught up on The Office, we'll be done. I've been reading a ton lately, and just ran out of books (except for the Norwegian masterwork), which may be why I've been watching more TV.

In Which There Are Pictures

2008-05-07T19:10:00.000-07:00

Can you believe it? I took pictures, AND downloaded them onto my computer, AND transferred them to Flickr, AND posted them on my blog. I won't tell you how long they've been sitting in each portion of that process. Suffice it to say, it's time to take more pictures.

Behold, My Hero and me in California. I've never been to CA, but he was out in Reno for a work conference, and I joined him when the conference was over, and we went to California - not once, but twice, in the three days we were out there. Which is also the number of times we went to Trader Joe's and In-N-Out.

The above picture was taken at Donner Memorial State Park. Man, that Donner party was something else. Talk about Drama. Oh, and tragedy.

We also went gliding over Lake Tahoe. Ravelry came in handy - through a "Northern Nevada" group I found a lady from England who had vacationed in Reno a couple months ago and she recommended the gliding company. It's a small world, Ravelers. The gliding was fun; it was cool to see the lake from the air (we hadn't driven over that way yet). It was bumpy, though, the way roller-coasters are bumpy - we were both somewhat on the nauseous side when we landed. We sat in the car and breathed cautiously for about half an hour - My Hero more so than I.

I've been knitting, but my pictures are crappy. I'm almost done with my Tangled Yoke Cardigan - I've had to rip out the collar bind-off twice, and I'm still not wild about it, but it'll do. I've woven in the ends and grafted the under-arm live stitches. All that's left is the button bands and finding the perfect buttons. I'm not as excited as I would like to be about this sweater - it doesn't fit right and it's a little short. But at this point, I'm not really disposed to ripping it all out and starting over, and besides, it's my first grown-up sweater and I'm willing to give myself some leeway on that account.

Also, baby pictures - we discovered that the Doodle reacts positively ("Aaahhh") to mango-peach-strawberry smoothies. I'm smiling in this picture because it's the first time I've been able to talk her into eating fruit since we ran out of canned peaches (I canned them myself and hate to buy them) a month ago. She's strictly a starch-and-protein gal.

My Hero had just gotten her out of the bathtub and toweled her hair somewhat dry for this picture. We are sure she'll love us and our contributions to posterity when she's older.

And finally, some pretty, Brockety flowers. Ranunculus from Whole Foods, bought on my day off last week.

On My Mind

2008-04-29T22:16:00.000-07:00

My Hero gave me a link to a Chicago Tribune article about a controversy our alma mater is dealing with. Dr. Kent Gramm, a literature professor for the past 20 years at Wheaton, has resigned from his job in connection with the end of his 30-year marriage. Basically (as I understand it), Wheaton's policy is that if you're getting divorced, you have to talk to the administration and tell them why you're getting divorced, and if your divorce is not due to one of the two reasons provided in Scripture for divorce (adultery or desertion), you have to leave the school. Dr. Gramm didn't want to talk to the administration, so he resigned instead. Wheaton offered to let him stay on for another year until he could find another job, but he declined to do so.

I made the mistake of reading the "react to this article" posts - to put it mildly, most readers are labeling Wheaton a fundamentalist, bigoted producer of rabid extremists (literally, "a Christian madrasa") that has discriminated against this guy in the most offensive way possible - by a) judging him based on his personal life and b) ruining his career in favor of perpetuating an outdated, ignorant and narrow-minded understanding of the world we live in. Did they even read the article? The Trib certainly goes to no great lengths to say good things about Wheaton (it never has), but it's clear - he's resigning because he chose not to follow the process, not because he's getting a divorce.

As far as divorce and Wheaton are concerned, I think they probably should reconsider their approach, given its prevalence in our society (including Christian society), but from a biblical point of view, I think they're on much more solid ground differentiating between types of divorce than they are, for example, in closing the library on Sundays. I actually really respect their willingness to dialogue with employees (or potential employees) on a case-by-case basis rather than write off "the divorced" as unsalvageable. There are plenty of Christian institutions that find a blanket statement for marital status (i.e., "if you're divorced or have been divorced, we have no use for you") to be the litmus test; it's encouraging to me that they approach the question with grace.

However, there are so many other issues here that are up for discussion, I doubt I'll ramble through them all in this post. Let's start with contractual obligations: he had them. He knew what they were. He chose to resign rather than be fired for not abiding by them. The fact that the college offered him an extra year tells me that they were operating graciously; I'd expect to find out that no one wanted to see him go, but you can't have a policy like that and then break it when it's convenient/preferable. Similarly, if I work in healthcare and understand that one of the terms of my employment is randomized drug testing, then refuse to be tested on grounds of protecting my privacy when my number comes up, I can be fired for not being tested, not because I used drugs.

What about the issue of accountability and community? Commenters were complaining about the right of the college to find out about the divorce. What struck me is that part of the deal with Christian community (when it works right) is that when you're struggling with something, your community knows about it and supports you through it. It's not a question of rights when you're in a community like that - to some extent, you give up the "right" to privacy. Indeed, the community works best when all its members give up that right and allow themselves to be loved, warts and all. I don't think American culture knows very much about this anymore, and that makes me sad. Think how much energy is wasted, how much love is foregone, when one's primary goal is to look good/successful/happy/well-adjusted! It sounds trite, but I think it's far better to be vulnerable and surrounded by loving friends than to be top dog, wounded and lonely. My heart aches for those who can only understand community in the ways it has failed.

Sorry this is so long - there's lots more rattling around, but I think I can probably go to sleep now.

Letting Out the Dogs

2008-04-08T09:30:00.000-07:00

Way back in the last decade (1999 maybe?), some group came out with some song, the key phrase of which was "Who let the dogs out?" followed by some rhythmic woofs. Obviously, a ten-year-old hip-hop song that I can't even be bothered to Google has lost something of its relevance, an observation highlighted by Michael quoting it in The Office sometime this season (I swear, I'm so lazy with the links it's pathetic). You know if the boss at Dunder-Mifflin is using it, it's way past its prime.

Then, I was driving to the grocery store the other day and saw it on a church sign as a sermon title. Imagine. What on earth can the Wellshire Presbyterian Church pastor be preaching on that s/he would title his sermon "Who Let the Dogs Out?" The only thing I could come up with was this passage. I'd give just about anything to know what the application would be.

18 Months

2008-03-31T09:40:00.000-07:00

The Doodle hit month 18 a week and a half ago; last week she had her checkup.

She's in the 70th percentile for her height (32 inches) and the 10th percentile for her weight (22 pounds). She's coming along great developmentally, probably more so with the talking than the motor skills. Her vocabulary is probably about 40 words, and her current thing is to address me exclusively and at all times. Everything is "blah blah blah, Mama. blah blah blah, Mama". She's learned to say "Please" and "Thank you", and loves to say "hello" to the phone, preferably when there isn't anyone on the other end. She's running everywhere, and is an expert and going up and down the stairs. She's started taking an interest in drawing, and her preferred media are ballpoint pen on upholstery. Her favorite food is graham crackers ("cacku?") and she is revolted by anything that could be considered a vegetable, with the possible exception of peas. We're working on broadening her horizons. When we're outside, she likes to move the rocks from the front of the bush to behind the bush, and pull handfuls of dirt out of the flower pots. We haven't invested in outside toys yet, since it's still early in the season (it snowed this morning) and there's not a ton to do in our little 8x8 concrete patio. She loves reading books and playing at the Children's Museum. She's really good-natured, and I'd say 90% of the time (when she's not teething) she's in a fabulous, sunny mood.

A Litany

2008-03-31T09:21:00.001-07:00

What a month. You wonder why I haven't posted? Let's see:

Took in the car: estimated $1800 worth of work needed. Car is worth $1200 (max). Decide to do some of the work ourselves.
My Hero and his brother spend 10 hours one Saturday replacing the radiator.
The next day, we go downstairs to do laundry and discover a half inch of water standing in our basement. It's been there at least 18 hours. On the plus side, it's just kitchen water - a little food in it, but no raw sewage. There's a block in our drainpipe. We won't discuss the fact that it's probably due to a sweater trying to escape its felting bag in the washing machine. On my watch.
The next day, the Doodle begins cutting three molars at once.
The next day, My Hero stays home to address the basement with more force - pulling out carpet, flooring, etc. to get rid of the pervasive musty smell. Did I mention that the Doodle usually sleeps downstairs? She's sleeping all over the house at this point.
The next day, I get a cold. Which I still have, a month later (yes, I've been to the doctor, twice).

Needless to say, blogging has not been on the top of my priority list. These days, I'm lucky if I get to put on clean underwear. But we're coming out of the fog (although I think My Hero may be coming down with my cold - poor guy). We've painted the basement floor with Kilz and are in the process of moving everything back to where it belongs before my folks show up in two weeks.

There has been knitting, but very little picture-taking.

Me Meme

2008-02-25T17:17:00.000-08:00

Rachel tagged me for my first meme; I went to her blog and read the rules, and decided to blow most of them off, except the obvious one: tell seven random things about myself. All that "post the rules" and "tag seven other people" crap is right out the window as far as I'm concerned. So...seven random things.

1. I am terrified to the point of phobia of ascending spiral staircases. I had a taste of this in York going up the cathedral tower six years ago, but I'd forgotten about it until this trip to Oregon and the Yaquina Head Lighthouse tour. Oy. Oddly, I have no problem going down; it has something to do (I suspect) with the implied centrifugal leaning - in toward that really long drop on the way up, and out toward the stable wall on the way down.

2. I used to dye my hair red on a regular basis. Not Orphan Annie red, but I was often compared to Clare Danes during her redhead phase, and I was runner-up in the "Most Irish-looking" contest at our church's annual meeting one year. Not bad for a German.

3. My maiden name is Funkhouser. The best thing about a last name like Funkhouser is that there's not a ton you can do with it to make it any more interesting. I was sad to see it go when I got married - no way I was going to hyphenate that sucker.

4. I haven't had a full-time job since July 2002 (more than four years before the Doodle made part-time a necessity). I negotiated with my temp assignment that I'd stay on with them longer if they'd let me work four 8's, and I've never looked back. Why work more than I have to? There are naps to be had!

5. Even though I'm on the lazy side (see #4), I have a deep streak of farming/gardening/tending in me - wheat and cattle farmers on both sides of the gene pool have contributed to this. A life thus far of apartment and townhouse dwelling has not encouraged it. However, it's probably for the best, since I think I probably like the idea of a huge garden more than I would really like the reality. I'll pore over Burpee seed catalogs and estimate how many alpacas we could buy with our savings (answer: one-third), but really when it comes down to it, I like sleeping. A lot.

6. I ran cross-country one season in high school. To this day, I am mystified by my decision to run cross-country (again, see #4). I do not enjoy running in the least. I've started running recently because I need to do something to get in shape and it works fast, but all I can think about while I'm out at 6:30 a.m. is, "Oh, look how pretty the sky is - how much longer do I have to this???"

7. Almost every day, something I do, see or think about reminds me of something that happened during college - and I graduated almost ten years ago. Simply put, college was the best experience of my life (although marriage is beginning to edge it out occasionally) and if I could figure out a way to go back and do it all again, I totally would. Not grad school, not continuing ed, but the whole undergrad shebang - dorm life, staying up until 4 a.m. debating the existence of original sin (love ya, Bible majors!), staying up until 8 a.m. bitching about the administration (love ya, Record staff!), doing homework in the cafeteria in between breakfast and lunch - the whole thing was fabulous, and I have four more majors and a whole slew of extracurricular activities that I didn't get to take care of the first time around.

Whew!

Knitting content posted sometime in the next week, hopefully.

On Adjectives

2008-02-15T14:49:00.000-08:00

So this is about a Christmas gift I received from My Hero. I'll say right here that this is the first year anyone has taken my knitting seriously enough to buy me presents that have to do with yarn, or the storage/maintenance/knitting thereof, so I would like to publicly thank those individuals (My Hero and my mom and mother-in-law) who have supported/enabled me during the holiday and birthday season. Finally! :)

Anyways. My Hero bravely went to a yarn store all by himself and bought a swift, which, after I received a bigger, wooden version from my mom, I returned for a ball winder:

Behold, the Almighty Handy Reeling Machine. There is really very little that I enjoy more than English translations performed by those who have 85% fluency in the language. I once had a balsa wood airplane kit that bragged that it could "be circular three times in the air!" While I'm somewhat bemused at how they arrive at the vocabulary they choose, you have to hand it to these translators for infusing their English with a certain enthusiasm that is missing from the usage of us jaded native speakers. I don't think it would ever occur to me to pair Almighty and Handy as descriptors for the same object. Unless, I suppose, I was describing the accessibility of God?

I'm a Fibertarian

2008-02-05T06:46:00.000-08:00

The Panopticon has come up with a political party that I just might be able to fully support.

Knitters, unite!

Doodle Update

2008-01-26T08:00:00.000-08:00

The Doodle is growing by leaps and bounds. We are constantly amazed at the things she has figured out regarding her surroundings. Lately, her big thing is to bring us trash - little pieces of lint, scraps of paper, receipts - to be thrown away. "Shash", she says in her little voice, and hands it to us, or toddles over to the cabinet where the trash can lives and tries to get in around the child lock to throw it away herself. We have no idea where she learned what constitutes trash or what needs to be done with it. Or, for that matter, how much more frequently we need to vacuum.

A couple of days ago, she figured out shoes - up until now she's pretty much just been wearing Robeez knockoffs, those little leather-soled, elastic-backed abuse-takers that won't come off no matter how hard she tries (I love them, and am already mourning her outgrowing them). My Hero bought her a pair of big-kid shoes (size 6 or 8, I think - about eight inches long) for fun for her birthday, because she was always fascinated with our grown-up shoes by the door. Now she wants to wear them.

She's a thing of wonder and joy!

Birthdays

2008-01-24T19:20:00.000-08:00

This month, My Hero turned 32 and I turned 31. After spending Christmas with my family in Illinois and enduring 19 hours to and from on a train with a one-year-old, we were suffering from an overdose of partying, not to mention post-traumatic stress syndrome (NEVER. AGAIN. with the train thing). We laid low for our birthdays, which are a little over a week apart. Nevertheless, I think I won on the "most effort" competition - to wit, my made from scratch yellow cake with chocolate frosting. You may be impressed, but I just didn't want to go to the store to buy the mixes, and we didn't want a whole 13x9 cake.

This was also my first run-in (after living here for six years) with high-altitude issues. You can't see it because of the frosting, but my cake ended up with a rather sinky middle. Tasted good, though - not as light as the Doughboy's, but excellent nonetheless.

For my birthday, I told him I just wanted ice cream:

Hey, works for me.

Back to life

2008-01-24T18:47:00.000-08:00

Funny how being out of work drastically decreases my motivation to blog, even though I have yet to discuss my work in my blog. It's probably the combination of ennui resulting from having nothing to do all day and guilt from being on the computer and not using it for job-hunting. But all is restored, my friends - tomorrow I begin gainful part-time employment once again, this time for a general contractor about 30 minutes from my house. I'm looking forward to the change in venue (I've worked in a hospital - administratively - for the past five years) and the challenge of learning some new systems and terms and whatnot. And also the casual dress code - can anyone say "steeltoed boots" with me? Oh yeah.

Being unemployed doesn't mean I've been sitting around doing nothing. Or, in addition to doing nothing, I've been knitting (which, depending on who you talk to, is the same thing). Behold, the baby gifts.

The top is a hat and socks for my newest nephew, born the day before the Doodle's first birthday (I'm a little behind on the posting - these got to him for Christmas); the second is the Elizabeth Zimmerman February Baby Sweater from Knitter's Almanac, knitted for a friend's baby who was born on New Year's Eve (more timely on this one), and the third is Trellis 2.0, a sweater I've had in pieces for months that finally got seamed and is for another friend whose baby was born on the 11th. More details will be posted on Ravelry, for those on the inside.

Happy Reindeer!

2007-12-25T09:38:00.000-08:00

Malabrigo, how do I love thee?

2007-12-15T18:19:00.001-08:00

Let me count the ways:

Silence is Golden...

2007-12-06T12:18:00.000-08:00

...so shut up and glitter! That's what my uncle used to tell my mom. But if silence really was golden I'd be a rich blogger, wouldn't I?

Things are hectic here. Christmas gifts on the needles, of course, but I also got laid off last month (severance to be determined, hopefully this week), so I'm in the midst of the roller-coaster of job hunting, interviewing, etc. The job hunting isn't so bad - I'm definitely polishing up my vocab! - but the applying and interviewing and not getting the job thing is really wearing me down. And being home all day with not much to do is not such a fun thing either - contrary to my longings when I was employed! The grass is always greener...

I have a couple posts rattling around, mostly to do with my Christmas knitting - I've found some incredible yarn out there! And there has been more hammering of hazelnuts - this time for baking biscotti (the first batch got sauced up and thrown together with Brussels sprouts - mmm!).

I'm a Gingerbread House!

2007-11-27T12:24:00.000-08:00

You Are a Gingerbread House

A little spicy and a little sweet, anyone would like to be lost in the woods with you.

What Holiday Food Are You?

Well, That's Satisfying.

2007-11-23T07:44:00.000-08:00

We bought our townhouse in June. The kitchen countertops are tiled in large ceramic tiles, with about 1/4" of grout between - not the best surface for rolling out things like pie crusts or biscuits. And they're hard to clean, too.

But one thing they're good for?

Womb

2007-11-21T07:33:00.000-08:00

I love knitting these. This is the third one I've done this year. The camera makes it a little more electric-pink than it actually is - it's more of a deep bubblegum. Lamb's Pride Bulky, on size 8 dpns.
ETA: I am not pregnant. This was for a friend who had a hysterectomy. Just to be clear.

Addiction Central

2007-11-15T18:19:00.002-08:00

You have got to check this out - I donated 1430 grains of rice before I even realized it. Wow. Thanks to Bub & Pie for turning me on to this!

An Inconvenient Excuse?

2007-11-12T20:10:00.000-08:00

Environmentalism is everywhere now. Well, not everywhere, but pretty ubiquitous. Flex fuel! Canvas Whole Foods bags! Organic bedsheets! Even evangelical Christians (a historically anti-liberal-platform bunch) are entering the fray, coming together to agree that we need to be better stewards of God's creation. A gigantic church I keep up with did a sermon series in the summer called "God is Green". The former vice president of the US won the Nobel Peace Prize for his work on global climate change. I'm not getting ready to deny the effects of humanity on this planet, or say that the American way of life shouldn't have to change just because of some stupid ozone.

I think that the thing that concerns me about the whole climate change/environmentalism/"going green" discussion is the moral overtones it's been imbued with, particularly in Christian circles. Yes, the earth is being exploited and we need to do something about it. But last I checked, girls in Bangkok are still being exploited in the sex trade, and children in sub-Saharan Africa are still being exploited as child soldiers (don't get me started on fair-trade and labor exploitation - I just finished reading Grapes of Wrath). I get the very uncomfortable feeling that many Americans are, in some respects, eager to latch onto "going green" as an easy way to do something that makes them feel good about themselves. There's no dealing with human beings beyond telling the grocery checker, "Oh, I brought my own bags".

I know I'm probably not the best person to take this position, since having a one-year-old considerably limits my contact with other people (think hermit-like existence), which in turn reduces my ability to get a broad opinion on this subject. I'm mostly working off of my observations and some discussions I've had recently with My Hero. I guess it bothers me that the conversations I hear tend toward, "which is better: driving across town to recycle, or throwing away bottles and saving the carbon emissions?" rather than, "which is better: spending quality time with my friends, or saving the $40 I could have spent on beer and sending it to someone who can buy a prostitute out of slavery with it?" After all, if you don't buy the stuff, you don't have to recycle the bottles.

So how about this? Instead of buying $10 canvas grocery bags, learn to knit and make your own. Or buy one of these - fair trade, supporting local economy. Christmas is coming...ever give anybody a duck? Or five?

Maybe saving the planet has more to do with how we treat each other than how big our carbon footprint is. Maybe if we screw in a fancy lightbulb, we should also give the homeless guy on the corner a hat and gloves. Maybe if God commanded us to be stewards of the rest of creation, and His Son commanded us to love one another, they're both right at the same time.

Get Thinner Here!

2007-10-30T19:13:00.000-07:00

The above exclamation was blinking on a sign I drove by the other day. A weight loss clinic? In that building? Looks like the paint store is taking up all the -- oh. Right. Paint thinner.

I've spent some time since then discussing with myself the implications of the fact that even though the blinking lights were on a paint store sign, I immediately assumed it was for a weight loss clinic. Am I so accustomed to my culture's preoccupation with appearance and slimness that any other option is barely plausible? Seriously, it took me over a block to realize my mistake. Additionally, did the company realize what they were saying? Usually, when you're used to thinking of something from one perspective, it's hard to recognize a different perspective unless someone points it out to you - like that line drawing that's a young lady with a hat - wait! it's an old crone! - wait! You know, the one they always pull up in Psychology class. Had anybody ever walked into the paint store, looked puzzled, and asked about the weight loss clinic?

And what about people for whom English is just barely a second language? How does one explain to them that Get Thinner Here can mean two different things at exactly the same time? I love playing with English, listening to it knot up into itself and then fluidly unravel, like some kind of linguistic jellyfish. I'm looking into getting certified to teach ESL, to some extent because I get such a kick out of the language and want to pass it on, to let these outsiders in on the joke. Because I would hate to see someone walk into an LA Weightloss Center with their dried-up paintbrushes and not understand when everyone laughs.

FO

2007-10-30T18:14:00.000-07:00

Finished the Hemlock Ring Blanket. I loved this project, although it got kinda boring toward the end. The pictures weren't as blurry on Flickr...

For those of you who are interested in these things, I used five (maybe six? I lost count) balls of Cascade Indulgence - an alpaca/angora blend that's extremely yummy, as long as you don't have to rip it too often. It's about four feet across, and it's destined to be a lap blanket for My Hero's grandmother, who turns 100 on November 18. She's spunky and spry, living on her own and active in her church.

Also, in yarny and bloggy news, I received my prize for bravest delurker from WoolGathering the other day - a fabulous...uh...stuff bag-type thingy for holding knitting notions - yarn needles, row counter, etc. And a tape measure that looks like a cake! And in case you're just joining us (insert irony here), this prize is the reason this blog exists; the big question is whether I'll be able to keep it up now that I'm not sloshed and waiting for my swag.

Happy St. Crispin's Day

2007-10-25T07:00:00.001-07:00

This speech (from Henry V) is guaranteed to send shivers - especially if read aloud. It is, in my opinion, the best argument for why we should be teaching kids Shakesepeare.

Westmoreland:
O! that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day.

King Henry V:
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland. No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will, I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It ernes me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more.
Rather proclaim it presently through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart. His passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the Feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a-tiptoe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live t'old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say "To-morrow is Saint Crispian":
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars
And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day."
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. (IV, iii)

That's What Happens When You Drunk-Blog

2007-10-18T19:51:00.001-07:00

So...if any of you (or the two of you) have been trying to link to my blog, I was recently informed that I had a typo in my blog url - it's now correct: iamalpineflower.blogspot.com. You'll notice that the original url had an extra "l" after the p. Shouldn't start a blog after two (large) glasses of wine...this has been a public service announcement.

Ugh

2007-10-15T17:13:00.000-07:00

We have friends who say that God brings couples together and gifts them so that when they have children, one of them will be able to handle blood, and the other will be able to handle vomit. Unfortunately, this weekend our little family discovered that God overlooked us - neither My Hero nor I can handle vomit. The Doodle came down with the stomach flu on Friday night and both her parents just about lost their own cookies during the cleanup. I also have to admit that I was relieved to be leaving for a two-night retreat and didn't have to deal with her the rest of the time she was sick (I think I need to do some penance for that. Poor man!). When I came back, My Hero had come down with it. We're all better now, but quiet. I expect I'll come down with it sometime in the next week - there is little more dread-full than anticipating a GI virus.

The Doodle is still pretty clingy and whiny. This was her first experience with vomiting...tossing her cookies...feeding the fishes...(I had a youth pastor who collected these euphemisms - he was just a barrel of laughs, let me tell you).

In order to end on a positive note, I knitted a hat for my brother over the weekend! Nothing like sitting in a series of lectures to get things done.

Cardinal Rule

2007-10-11T14:16:00.000-07:00

Gracious, it's been two weeks. No wonder no one's reading this thing...I know the number one blogging rule is blog often. Sigh. Maybe posting a few pics will make it better...

My Hero and I went to Oregon this past weekend. We went with another couple and stayed at a B&B on the Oregon coast, south of Newport. I was slightly worried that we'd be jeopardizing our friendship by traveling together, but we had a blast! We left the Doodle at home with my mom, and although she was slightly traumatized by our extended absence, she's recovered nicely and we had a great time without her. She had fun with Grandma, and Grandma definitely had fun with her.

Anemoi 2.0

2007-09-29T09:24:00.000-07:00

There are not too many mitten patterns that I find worthwhile - but I really like Eunny Jang's pattern for the Anemoi Mittens. In fact, it's the only pattern (so far) that I've bought off the internet (Cheap? Yes. Discerning? Also yes. There's a lot of good free patterns out there!). This was my first pair of Anemois, finished at the end of April, just in time for...spring.

I loved the yarn (Koigu), and I loved the colorway of the variegated skein (I like to call it "Burnt Toast & Juniper"), but when I put it together with the cream, the swirls and the crosses on the back got kind of lost - I even tried switching which hand held which color, and it still came out a little muddy. They were my first fair-isle project, and my first time using Addi Turbos (sizes 2 and 1!), and I was very sad when I bound off the second thumb - no more Anemois!

When a friend at work expressed a desire to have a pair of her very own, I was happy to haggle with her (let's face it, they're fun, but if they're not for me or family, I'm not likely to want to do it for free). She's an excellent beader (beadress?), so I'm making this pair for her in exchange for a set of dangle-free stitch-markers (here's an example). I'm using Paton's Kroy, my trusty Addis, and I'm having a blast.

Happy birthday

2007-09-21T07:36:00.001-07:00

Before...

...and after.

Happy birthday, precious baby girl. I'm loving every minute of it.

And if you're here for yarn...

2007-09-19T11:07:00.000-07:00

Behold, the beginnings of the Hemlock Blanket by Brooklyn Tweed. Knit on size 10 circulars with Cascade Indulgence. (Deets on Ravelry) Excuse my crappy digital pic - still learning how to photograph knitting.

Apparently, the only way I can do lace is by knitting the lace row, getting three stitches from the end and discovering I'm off by a stitch or two, ripping the row out and knitting it again. Invariably, the error is in the first repeat, when I should be paying attention to the chart and all. And may I just say that Feather & Fan is not my favorite lace pattern? I think it's so simple that I get cocky or something and screw it up. I'm loving the yarn, though! Alpaca and angora...mmm.

Let's Jump Right In, Shall We?

2007-09-10T18:14:00.001-07:00

Bub & Pie wrote a post today about the difficulty of staying committed to a church when they use guilt to talk you into doing stuff. My Hero and I have been having a similar discussion every Sunday around 12:15 about our church.

For us, the discussion is not so much about the guilt thing as it is just a general embarrassment issue. Why, for example, can't they spell-check the powerpoint? Or tell us where the nursery is (Doodle turns 1 in a couple weeks and I just found out I could drop her off - and we've been going there since before she was conceived!)? At first it was endearing: "Aw, look how down-home they are. Name-tags! Donuts! 'Life' instead of 'like'!". Now that we've been around for a while, we know that the name tags are worn by a handful of die-hard greeters, the donuts are leftovers that have been frozen since last week, and the spelling errors are plentiful.

The embarrassment lies in the fact that this stuff is, in our opinion, on the tacky side. We know that the intent is great but that the execution is amateur at best, pathetic at worst. It makes us reluctant to want to invite our friends - and this is where it gets sticky, every week. The emerging church movement serves to remind everyone that broadly speaking, people our age are looking for high-quality, technologically savvy "events" on a Sunday morning. While I don't agree with that entirely (I think a well-thought-out sermon can make up for a lack of movie clips and light shows), I do think that folks my age expect a degree of professionalism that may have not been necessary (or available) in the age of type-written, mimeographed bulletins - and are apt to write off the entire experience based on poor presentation. I don't think this is very nice of them (or - let's be honest - me), but it's been my experience, both in and out of church.

My struggle is whether it's shallow of me to base my willingness to invite friends (or, for that matter, my own attendance) on some bad powerpointing, or if a lack of attention to typos is somehow indicative of a deeper lack of attention to the lives of those within the congregation. Granted, we aren't very involved right now - I know that involvement increases one's feeling of inclusion - but we also aren't seeing much that's motivating us to get involved. Do I really want to drag other people into this? Do I want to stick around for it myself?

For the time being, we're staying put. We both know that church is not just about whether we think they're succeeding at making us feel good every week. It's a commitment, like B&P said, to a group of people who we may or may not agree with as far as what's Important on Sunday mornings, but who are part of the same body we are and who ardently desire to love and follow Christ. Just don't ask us to wear our nametags.

The way things should be

2007-09-05T18:38:00.000-07:00

Autumn is my favorite season. Although daytime in the Mile-High City makes you think it's still summer, evenings and mornings tell a different story. It was 90 or so today, but the clouds have rolled in, rain is pattering on the skylight, and I'm debating about throwing an extra blanket on the bed. It's been down in the low 50s at night lately. I love it. I saw my first turning leaves today! August absolutely crawled by, but now that September's here, I can feel the change in the air - fall is right around the corner.

Before Doodle was born, I would wish that My Hero and I could spend evenings together, curled up on the couch reading in mutual silence, but we always wound up watching TV or trashing our perfectly good evening some other way. I would go to bed disappointed that I didn't get to have a quiet evening. But the baby has done great things for us! She goes to bed around 6 p.m. (thank you, Dr. Weissbluth!) and we're forced to stay in the house, being quiet. The TV is in the room adjacent to hers, so it's too much of a risk just to watch stupid sitcom reruns. Not that we tiptoe around the rest of the house, but it's easier to make a case for peacefulness when someone's sleeping downstairs.

So here we are: cooler temps, rain on the skylight, an empty ice cream bowl, and thee. How much better can it get?

The Doodle!

2007-08-31T20:59:00.000-07:00

Here she is. She turns a year old in three weeks. Three weeks! Can you believe it? My Hero and I were just sitting at the computer laughing at how dang cute she is. Truly our pride and joy.

And So It Begins

2007-08-28T01:51:00.000-07:00

I know heatherfeather will be amazed. I vowed that if I won a prize in Woolgathering's blog, I would start one of my own, so here I am.

There's all this first-post pressure I've put myself under - am I able to be witty enough? Compelling enough? Will I establish a "readership"? Will I be discovered by a major publishing company and write a memoir or a how-to book or edit a major (to some of us) publication? Probably not. It'll probably just be posts about the Doodle and my knitting, maybe some brief forays into ranting and thinking. With fabulous links along the side to bloggers who have figured out how to use this medium to express themselves wittily and compellingly.

So, come for the links, stay (or, more accurately, come back) for the yarn.