Love

Yea, I’m sayin’ it — Beth totally digs me. She bought me a present to celebrate the beginning of my spinning obsession career, saying that every new spinner needs to be indoctrinated encouraged. Isn’t it beautiful? At some point I’ll be skilled enough to use this. For now, I will pet my beautiful braid of perfectly Mafia colors. Speaking of — she’s so skilled at nailing my color scheme, when she gave it to me, I was wearing a shirt that watched the roving perfectly.

As an added benefit, I finished my Anastasia socks yesterday, and I love them. The Sophie’s Toes Froggy is stunning. The design was easy enough to memorize quickly, but created excellent visual interest with that spiral column of eyelets. Love.

Oh geez. Where did the photo of both feet go? Give me couple hours…

Little Man turns 4!

On Sunday, Little Man turned 4 years old, so we threw a big party. While the primary purpose of my vacation last week was to prepare for visitors, I was less productive than I planned. Perhaps my list was too long? Anyway … here’s the story in photos.

Handmade invites by Wifey

What do you do the night before a party?

You don’t remove a toilet? Well why not? Doesn’t this look like fun?

Since that last photo was not terribly flattering, this is simply proof that MafiaBro has a nice rear:

How many Mafias does it take to paint a bathroom?

The next morning, we hauled a$s to finish the castle. For those who are interested, I present:

How to Build a Castle in 10 Steps or Less

1) Rebuild your pergola: those rotting beams that are broken and sagging in the middle under the weight of that ancient grapevine will not win the hearts and minds of other parents. [new pressure treated wood=$90]

2) Buy white sheets from Goodwill. [$6]

3) Dye them with “pearl gray” RIT dye. [$8]

4) Cut a stencil out of poster board. [$2]

5) Buy 4 cans of gray spray-paint and use the stencil to paint the block imagery. [$8]

6) Cut the castle top out of cardboard & spray-paint it gray.

7) Send your Bro to the ‘Po to get a staple gun and don’t let anyone else play with use your new toy tool as you staple the sheets and cardboard to the pergola. [$20]

Borrow an artistic soul (MafiaMom) who feels that colorful flags are necessary. Stand and watch while they paint two pieces of felt with Elmer’s glue to stiffen the felt, cut the triangles and attach the flags two small dowels.

9) Cut windows in random places.

10) Sit down and drink a beer while your kid goes nuts.

Ta Da!

** if you do this project, I have one suggestion — start early! When you wait until the last minute, your family will be stressed, and you’ll owe your Mom and Bro something big!

In any case, it’ll be a big hit.

Even the dog will think it’s cool.

To further the notion that Wifey is Martha Stewart [have you ever seen them in the same room at the same time? yeah, me neither], here’s the spread that she prepared while I was dicking around in the god damn yard building the castle.

Do you see the Little Man hiding under the table with his Tord Boontje t-shirt? The cycle of favorite t-shirts [freezer paper stencils + Mombian’s “one of my moms is blogging this” t-shirts) makes a crafty blogging mama proud.

Speaking of Mombian – we were delighted that Dana & Co. came to the party, had a blast, and brought a brilliant present. Seriously. Go make a PVC pipe construction set.

And speaking of kids presents, I made a new freezer paper stencil for Grace’s 4th birthday. Most of the design is free-hand, but I traced the outside flower lines from What’s This?, a beloved Barefoot Books book. If you don’t know Barefoot Books, go now. Quickly.

Her t-shirt was part of a garden themed gift. I tried to find What’s This?, but it’s not available at the big box bookstores near my house, so Eric Carle’s The Tiny Seed was a great substitution.

It was a fabulous weekend of happy people all around!

Stay tuned for a knitting & fiber update tomorrow.

Dipping my toe in

After a long non-blogging/non-internet period, do you ever feel strange about starting up again? For the last 10 days, I’ve been outside every day for hours on end, and now I’m back to my windowless office with plans to stare at a computer all.damn.day. It’s hardly inspiring. So I’ll dip my toe into the blogging with a vacation list update & an interview.

1) finish the grape arbor/pergola before Little Man’s birthday party on the 27th.
2) spin every day (i.e. zen it up)
3) work on the Dale
4) photograph the stash for Ravelry
5) work on the downstairs bathroom before visitors arrive and need to use it (eek!) — finish painting walls; paint ceiling; paint beadboard; disconnect the toilet, remove remnants of old flooring & replace wax ring; sand & paint floor (a stop-gap measure).
6) post an update to the upstairs bathroom saga (since I’ve heard from more than a couple people that they’re anxiously awaiting the end of that story — who knew?)
7) post the “dick swinging at the plumbing supply house” story.

Despite the sad 43% performance, my moleskine houses 4 pages of lists, starting with a master vacation list, followed by smaller daily lists. And only 3 items were not completed! Yes!

Photos tomorrow, I promise.

Way back on Mother’s Day, Roro answered a series of questions and asked for other victims. I decided to play along, because I was dying to see what questions Roro would pick for me. Here they are, slightly tamer than I expected:

1. Your mom is visiting and stumbles upon your enormous stash of whips, riding crops and various studded leather items. What does she say? What do you say?

Mom: Ummm … Maaaafiiiiiia!? [giggle giggle] What’s all this stuff?

Mafia: MOOOOOMM! Get out of there! Good lord woman, have you no boundaries?

Mom: I’m just glad to know that my daughter has an active and imaginative sex life. Clearly Wifey is hiding a wild side behind that Martha Stewart exterior.

Mafia: Mom. Seriously. Just stop talking. I’m either going to die of embarassment or puke. ssshhh … ok? please?

Mom: Oh this is nothing. Did I ever tell you about my patient with the penis piercing?

Mafia: [covers ears] LaLaLaLLLLAAAAAAAA!

2. If you could have one do-over, what big or small choice would you go back and change?

I would’ve been nicer to my family during my 20s. I believed that “chosen family” was possible, and now I understand that blood is indeed thicker than water (even if the blood isn’t exactly genetically linked).

3. What’s the thing you’re least excited about having to explain to your son as he grows up? Will there be handpuppets?

I’m totally fine with the sex talk. Wifey — not fine. She’s lucky that I’m around. But I’ve recently realized that Little Man and I need to discuss privacy and boundaries and inappropriate touching, and a part of my heart is dying at the thought. My sweet little boy needs to understand that people aren’t always kind and generous, and the loss of his innocence is breaking my heart. And what do I say? How do I balance being informative and not scary? How can I be sure that he’ll come to me if something horrid happens? Stranger fear is important, but all the stats say that abuse comes at the hands of someone he knows. I can’t tell him that his penis is 100% private when teachers and other caretakers need to help him with the potty and bathing. How do I teach him the right boundaries? “If it makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell Mommy” – but what’s uncomfortable? Seriously, my chest tightens every time I think about it.

4. If you could instantly master one skill, what skill would you choose?

Spinning.
Weaving.
Blacksmithing.
Remembering song lyrics.
Singing.
Painting with abandon.
The ability to convince my department that I should work at home.
Break dancing (come on! it would have incredible shock value.)

5. What’s been your proudest moment so far?

Graduating from college.

Because my parents finished their undergraduate degrees later in life, and beyond that, no one in my extended family went to college. But I went to a fancy college, a fact that created both real and imagined distance between me and most members of my extended family. And I paid for college. The first month of every semester consisted of begging the financial aid office, begging my parents, finding extra work, applying for every loan imaginable, signing countless forms, explaining to professors why I didn’t have the books yet, and avoiding those supposedly voluntary dorm-related fees. There’s nothing quite as charming as a poor girl detailing her financial woes again and again to a rich girl, who arrived at college with a brand new Volvo, and can’t comprehend why a “payment plan” for the house kegger fees just won’t work. In the end, it all worked out, and I’m a devoted alumna.

If you want to play along, leave a comment saying, “Interview me, please.”
I will respond by emailing you five questions of my choosing.
You must update your blog with the answers to the questions. Whether you like them or not.
You have to include this explanation, and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Destruction Junction

Perhaps I’ve mentioned that I’m a tad destructive. I LOVE demolition. Just ask any of the 500 new homeowners that I regularly beg for a spot on the DIY demo team. Perhaps my enthusiasm is scaring them, ‘cuz I’m never actually invited.

This week. This week of vacation. Of lists and goals and priorities. Yeah, right.

On Day 1, I ditch the list and start tearing up the back yard. Wifey came home from work and said “oh.my.god.what have you done?” After hiding in the house for about 20 minutes, I crawled out, ready to face the storm — and blamed it on our elderly neighbor. “Well he said that our vegetable garden would get more morning sun if we thinned the back a little…” Who could resist such temptation? I couldn’t.

This is one of 3 piles

This is one of 7 trips to the recycling center. It’s a Passat wagon, and I can fit 5 of those tall brown paper yard waste bags in there. You do the math.

Mind you, while I’m paying penance hauling brush, Wifey’s happily chopping and tying. From my piles, she fashions a woven fence and a garden gate.

Thank god she’s around. She creates beauty from my destruction.

Knitting = a couple rows here and a couple rows there.

Spinning? Only if you call this spinning:

Note to self: you don’t know how to spin, so you’re not ready to watch a movie and spin at the same time, not matter how stupid the movie. Signed, The Mafia.

Favorite Things Monday: Caller I.D.

A couple months ago, this appeared on our caller i.d.

and I laughed my ass off.

Ever since, I’ve been wondering who called. Well today, Big Brother called again. Yes, as you probably already guessed, it’s Big Brothers Big Sisters, doing the lovely community service of calling to see if I have any clothes to donate, because they’ll be in my area and can pick them up.

Community service, whatever.  They ruined my paranoid delusion that Big Brother had finally found me.

Zen + DIY

Last night, I dragged Danielle to NH with me to meet a wheel, get a spinning lesson, and play. Terry brought two wheels for me (Cheryl’s Ashford Traveller and Julia’s Ashford Joy), and since Danielle won’t get her loaner wheel for a little while, I decided to share. Upon arrival, Cheryl & Terry got to work setting up the wheels, pulling out practice fiber, and guiding us through those awkward first moments. Cheryl sat with me, drafted while I treadled, treadled while I drafted, and reoriented me when I made spirally telephone cord. Apparently I’m a little high strung [who knew? read: deep sarcasm], so I was treadling too fast.

I got to watch a bunch of very experienced women spin, knit and chat, but I was completely awed at the little tiny charka that someone brought along. I’ve never seen one in use before, and it was very interesting.

After playing at the wheel for 2 hours last night, I burned through 2 ounces of beautiful Ward Brook Farm roving that Cheryl shared with me, and after another 1/2 hour today, I burned through nearly an ounce of Ward Brook Farm roving that I bought last year.

See … my first handspun yarn! At the very right edge of the bobbin you can see the beautiful red+purple that Cheryl brought for me, and the forest+pink+maroon is my roving that I spun this morning.

At this point, I wonder how long it’ll take to work through my miniature fiber stash.

Long before I knew the wheel was coming to my house, I planned to use some vacation time this week, so I’ll be home home home for the next 10 days with a new toy toy toy. Hip hip hooray!

I got a little light reading for the vacation. We LOVE the library at ChezMafia.

Because I love the cover afghan of Cables Untangled, choices for my SockPal, to pick a swatch for The Walker Treasury Project, and to help me with the finishing details on the Baby Dale (a lofty goal).

Other plans for vacation:

1) finish the grape arbor/pergola before Little Man’s birthday party on the 27th.
2) spin every day (i.e. zen it up)
3) work on the Dale
4) photograph the stash for Ravelry
5) work on the downstairs bathroom before visitors arrive and need to use it (eek!) — finish painting walls; paint ceiling; paint beadboard; disconnect the toilet, remove remnants of old flooring & replace wax ring; sand & paint floor (a stop-gap measure).
6) post an update to the upstairs bathroom saga (since I’ve heard from more than a couple people that they’re anxiously awaiting the end of that story — who knew?)
7) post the “dick swinging at the plumbing supply house” story.

The MBTA, my precious

1) After reading about spinning silk hankies on Two Sheep and KnittySpin (via WhipUp), I was itching to leave the office. So I jumped on the train, destined for Lucy’s shop. I ran down to the Kendall Square station, and dashed toward the train sitting in the station. I slid through the closing doors, knocked my arm on the edge, and dropped my T-pass ($235/mo!). The doors closed and I watched my pass hit the yellow stripe on the platform as we pulled out of the station. “OH SHIT!” The entire car full of people looked at me. “I dropped my pass!” I got off at the next stop. I found a T staffer and begged him to call someone at Kendall Sq. When I told him it’s a “Zone 7,” he said “OhhhhNoooo” and fired up the walkie talkie. He beeped me back through the turnstile (i.e. free ride), told me not to worry, explained how he could “dig in the pit” (i.e. the tracks) between incoming trains to find it, and rode back to Kendall with me. When we arrived, an old man in a T uniform strolled up to me and handed over my Zone 7. I nearly tackled and kissed him. Seriously. Instead, I think I’ll bring cookies to his booth tomorrow.

2) I went back into the station, gripping my pass, and the train carried me to Lucy’s place. I introduced myself by name+moniker and got a big hug with “I thought I’d recognize you!” [which made my covert soul very happy. mwah ha ha] We chatted about spinning lessons (note to self: schedule one), fiber, drop spindles, yarn, patterns, etc. It was lovely. Shortly before I was due back at MIT, Guido walked in. I’ve never met him, but he’s very sweet, and when I got back to my office, I immediately downloaded a couple of his podcasts. Oh, and did I mention the wee indulgence (stash bust who)?

Want a closer look at Lucy’s hand dyed sock yarn? Yeah, I thought so.

What should I do with it? At first, I imagined socks. But the tencel is so shiny, it looks like silk. So maybe a shawl is a better plan? Perhaps a nice rectangular one that Wifey could use for a scarf? Would knitting a beautiful scarf for Wifey get me out of the indulgence dog house?

That Elsebeth Lavold book also includes the illusive CAT that I’ve been seeking for over a year! Little Man is clearly getting a sweater soon.

3) As I’ve mentioned before, I knit almost exclusively on the train. Since I spend so much time on the train, I get to know the conductors. Beth, with whom I share most evening commutes, thinks this is hilarious. But she also says that Brian has “twinkly eyes,” which is absolutely the truth. Every day, when he checks my pass, Brian asks how the knitting is coming along. He’s particularly interested in the Dale sweater, and after hearing about the steeking process, practically begged me to do the steeks on the train. [I'm considering it...] When I get tired of the Dale and switch to the Anastasia socks, he walks by and says “Moved to the socks, have we?” After I completed the bulk of the body of the Dale, he rejoiced like any good Stitch & Bitch member, saying “you’re out of the black hole!” [clearly someone's been reading the YarnHarlot after his wife goes to bed] So of course I asked him to pose with the Dale:

Sorry for the blurry. You only have one shot at such things.

I finished the Dale body yesterday (yes, it’s huge. don’t ask).

Since then, I’ve been fighting with the front neck cast off stitches. I suspect that there’s a typo in the pattern, but I can’t find Dale errata anywhere! Surely even the Norwegians make mistakes from time to time. So I’ve been knitting and tinking and knitting and tinking ad nauseum. Just when I figured it out (I think), the next step is to knit back and forth. Stranded purling? yuck! Then I looked at the pattern. Shit, it’s a 3-color row! Stranded purling on a 3 color row?? YuckYuckdangdamnYuck! More knitting and tinking, knitting and tinking. Just when I got the hang of the purl tension and the proper color dominance orientation of the yarns and remembered to read the chart from L-R (that would be three tinks, if you’re counting along at home), I discovered this:

I was knitting with the short end, not off the bobbin! Only Brian kept me from tossing the Dale from the moving train. For real. He’s a good muggle-conductor-man. Everyone needs a Brian.

Favorite Things Monday: Crack Monkey Pedlars

While Wifey slept in, ate bon-bons and lounged in the yard*, Little Man and I celebrated Mother’s Day by wooling it up at the New Hampshire Sheep & Wool Festival. Danielle was my pseudo-wife for the day: driving, loading a heap of kid-gear, holding my bag, sharing french fries, pulling the wagon, periodically entertaining Little Man, unloading kid-gear, etc. She’s a great festival companion, should you ever have the chance to carpool with her.

Attendees link love: I spent glorious time with Pi Grrrl, Suzanne&Co, Cheryl, Terry, Kellee, Melanie, Kristen, and Julia, and unfortunately missed Pippi and Kat. For the record, Suzanne’s DH is a great festival man — kid wrangler, enabler, and bag/wagon tender. We love him. And Little Man is turning into a festival man too. He was remarkably well behaved. Seriously. Except for one key exception.
At Grafton Fibers booth, Little Man met the needle felted mermaid.  After a sedate round of questions and gentle touching of the mermaid:

Little Man burst into some intense mermaid-lusting misbehavior. After eagle-eyeing his gentle touches, I looked away for one split second and he grabbed the mini-mermaid and started swinging her around by her arm. AHHHH!!! I freaked. I saved mini-mermaid. I scolded. I was horrified. But Linda(?) said to me, “Don’t worry. I have three kids. Don’t freak out.” Then she turned to Little Man and said, “{his name}, do you like wool?” He stopped jumping around, nodded and came closer. She reached behind her, pulled out a handful of fluffy pinky purple fiber, handed it to Little Man, and said “Now you cuddle that, OK? You play with your own wool so your Mom doesn’t freak out, OK?” He grinned, nodded and smooshed the wool under his chin and snuggled it tightly. For the rest of the day, he snuggled that wool.

After he fell asleep last night, I was able to steal it and take a picture.

Linda(?) has to be the most generous vendor ever.  For all the parents out there — please buy from her.

But the big news is — and I hesitate to write this — I’ve officially fallen. With zero prompting, and even less consent, an innocent conversation about the unused drop spindle that I bought at last year’s NHS&W turned into plans for a golden winged chariot to carry a wheel to my house at some point in the next couple weeks. I’m afraid. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell them where I live?

Just in case they have the magical powers of Santa Claus (which I suspect they do), I had to prepare myself.

I can practically hear the knitters-turned-spinners howling with laughter from all sides of the globe. [shut up cate] Feel free to unleash the laughter on Danielle, who has her own story to tell.  Just sayin’.

Despite my terror, I’m also wicked excited.  So I’m releasing that excited energy by doing the Cheryl dance: “Cheryl’s the best!” [wiggle wiggle], “Cheryl’s the best!” [jump jump], “Cheryl’s the best!” [twirl twirl].

_________

*It’s a lie. She worked her tail off on Mother’s Day. First of all, we’re having a hard time determining how to split the day, and then she said we don’t have the luxury of celebrating. I think she might be referring to the state of perpetual DIY renovation. To that point, for Mother’s Day, Wifey got a really sassy pair of rain boots, and I got a lawn mower, a hedge trimmer and a Bleeding Heart plant. Yeah baby. Thank god for gay marriage. Everyone should bask in such luxury.

** Other news: I got into Ravelry and I’m a woman possessed. Truly. It’s divinity.

*** Even more news: I’ve been playing with Dana&Co lately and I adore them. Welcome to mecca Massachusetts, Dana.

Happy Mother’s Day!

On Saturday, I’m laying the in the hammock. I’m aware that Little Man is romping around the yard doing things that children do when they’re allowed to roam, but paying little attention to the details of his exploration. Which is a good thing, because the beauty of this gift would’ve been less had I known it was coming.

Happy Mother’s Day!!! I’m off to NHS&W to celebrate in wooly style.

Homecoming

Now that spring has finally graced us with her arrival, I come home from work to find Wifey and Little Man lounging in the hammock below the flowering pear tree.

And on the other side of our yard, the apple blossoms have appeared.

This is perfection.