A Long Winter's Nap

It feels like it's been a long winter's nap – both the nap and the winter, and we're not out of it yet. There's either too much or not enough to say about dreamtime (or nightmaretime), so for now howabout a view of bare trees and winter moonlight?



Ah.

Just this morning I said to myself, "Self, March is right around the corner, isn't it about time to think about registering for Sock Madness? Maybe it's time to have a look at the Ravgroup." Only to find – of course – that registration for SM15 has been going on all month and concludes February 28. Well, I'm glad I didn't miss it; indeed, by SM standards, there's plenty of time to spare. As I still have too many distractions and I'm not feeling hyper-competitive, I plan to ease back into knitting and blogging by joining a mellow team or the cheerleading squad.



Before the madness starts, let me note the last foot of last year, above: a plain sock knit in White Birch Fiber Arts 80/20 merino self-striping, colorway Nothing says screw you like a rainbow. It's the most wonderful long-repeat stripe I've ever knit. When the yarn is this fabulous, it's best to just knit, maybe insert an afterthought heel to keep the stripe pattern lined up, and think of sunshine and rainbows to come.

Spoopy: The Jaws of Doom

There's been so much that's flat-out terrifying this year, and then there's spoopiness.

Behold, the insatiable maw of garden destruction! Woe and alas, it's the Jaws of Doom! They may be tiny, but they are relentless. That was the choicest tomato of the week, and it was completely consumed in a matter of minutes, as were many others. They always go for the big ones.



And that is why the mid-October harvest is goodly, but mostly cherry tomatoes this year. Ah well, they taste good.



For some reason that brush with doom made me re-visit my languishing Socks on a Plane – and frog it. Not for the first time. Maybe third time's the charm?



It's time for Plan B C.

Attitude of Gratitude

This post was written in June but posted in July – and not even on the first of July – because June was the sort of month when the wheels came off. That was true literally, as with my hapless seven-year-old lawn mower, and in other ways as well for me, and perhaps for others too. Under such circumstances I try to cultivate an attitude of gratitude and to "knit on with confidence and hope through all crises" per Elizabeth Zimmermann. It doesn't always work, but it beats most of the alternatives.



So, in June, there was too much travel, of course. Which of course meant my Loopy Space Camp project for June, Tendril by Mary-Ann Mace, didn't progress very far – certainly not to completion. Perhaps it's in keeping with the space camp theme that instead of reaching Neptune (ie, a finished project of 800-999 yds (731-913 m)), it's become a UFO.



There was no June jamming for the FIJ Challenge either. Ah well. The July theme is stonefruit, and I really hope to get to can some. Meanwhile, Marisa was hospitalized with pre-eclampsia, which puts my woes in perspective. Here's hoping she and her twins pull through with flying colors.

On the bright side, the prize haul in June was quite handsome. I received a Sock Madness 13 prize, a beautiful personalized Party Palette from Belchickie, for improvising a crochet hook and knitting on with confidence and hope etc on my Demogorgon's Lair socks. My thanks to the Sock Madness mod team and to Belchickie!



And UFO or no, my Neptune swap partner, Cascott, sent a rich and lovely package: a sweet note; astronaut ice cream that I'm going to save for the big anniversary, July 20, 2019; a crochet hook/cable needle Handi Tool; Black Elephant Superwash Merino Singles, colorway Lights Out; stitch markers; and a space-themed project bag, lined and finely finished with a measuring tape scissors leash, sparkly pull tabs, and a rocket zipper pull (check out that planetary pattern-matching). My thanks to Neptune moderator UnravelingSophia and to Cascott!



While I was traveling Ravelry adopted a new policy banning expressions of support for the Trump administration as equivalent to hate speech, which rapidly became national news and inevitably national parody. The strong stand also provoked a backlash that involved threats against Rav staff, trolls and (possibly Russian) bots who mostly posted threatening and pornographic messages and images on the website, and DoS attacks. A few politically conservative groups closed and a few members quit. Some designers and yarn shops received threats and, curiously, some conservative knitters also received unpleasant messages. I have to wonder about the source(s). It's troubling to know Big Brother is watching, and cares enough to actively seek to create contention. Hm.



Also while I was traveling, one of my overwintered leeks started growing a bulb. I didn't think leeks did that, but there it is. I'm going to go with that bit of serendipity, and start a July project for Loopy Space Camp and spin a bit for Tour de Fleece, which starts July 6. More on both, and FIJ, later.

Signs of Spring

The signs are everywhere – spring is springing roundabout Exit 151! In celebration, I took my singleton Echoes by Liz Harris, the Sock Madness second round sock, to Branch Brook Park. I never tire of the annual show of cherry blossoms. The sock is pretty nice, too. (That's my sock, but not my hand.)



Last weekend the indubitable sign of spring was NJ Wool Walk. Pressed for time as I've been, I contented myself with a quick outing to Yarnia, where I filled a small basket with some yarn and other necessities (not shown) and some swag that came with the purchase (below). I got a notions bundle. I do love me some knitting swag. When unwound, the pink mini ball of yarn contained a coupon for 15% off a future purchase.



This weekend, given the prevalence of puffy buds on the trees and if the mild spring weather continues, I'd say it will be peak bloom in Branch Brook Park.



For those unacquainted with the technical terms for cherry blossom bloom stages, here's an illustrated primer (yes, such things exist!). Or in the "Beauty is truth" spirit, maybe it's enough to know that puffy buds = promise of beauty imminent. If you can't make it in person, there's always Branch Brook Park cam. And not to worry, there's plenty of late-blooming cherry trees, mainly with very showy double-ruffled magenta flowers, to come.

Blur

On reflection at year end, 2018 seems to have gone by in a blur. While it may not have attained 2016 dumpster fire levels of awful, the cumulative impact of winter snowstorms and autumn hurricanes, familial responsibilities, and especially the seemingly endless weary rounds of endless dreary travel really ground me down. There was sufficient miserable badness that the goodness was almost lost in the fog.

Almost. There were small consolations. Over the summer I discovered Marisa McClellan's much-celebrated tomato jams, and turned out red, orange, and yellow varieties because I grew red and orange tomatoes and got some yellow ones at the farmer's market. Now that summer is gone, a dollop of tomato jam on eggs or in a chowder is so very nice.



As hard as it is now to recall or even imagine there once were winter Ravellenics or Sock Madness 12, they occurred, and I participated to the limited extent that I could. Sometimes frogging and qualifying are all that one can manage.

 

Perennial optimist that I am, I also entered make-alongs with every good intention of finishing odd socks and weaving spa cloths. Alas, that didn't go as planned. Ah well, next year.

 

It should be no surprise that one sock – the SM12 qualifier! – went onto the Clothesline of Shame and none came down for a total of ten Singleton Socks of Shame. Not the most ever, but still backwards progress.

Singleton Socks of Shame 2018, left to right, oldest to newest: Meadowlands, Fawkes, Julesokker, Love Me Knot, Chain Link, Hanauma Bay, handspun Queen of Diamonds, Twisted Madness, Dropping Madness, Fée Dragée with a counting thread.

One last fibery consolation for the year is my last foot, just-finished holly jolly Cranberry Biscotti by Elizabeth Sullivan. I'm beyond pleased with the way they turned out. I added a beaded cuff, which while not super-visible, nonetheless makes me absurdly happy.



With the year closing amid increasing economic turmoil and willful political failures, more so than ever knitting has become both solace and expression of resistance. I have no sage advice to offer this New Year's Eve beyond the usual, perhaps all the more important in unusual times: take good care of yerselves...



... and see you on the other side.

Pedants and Scofflaws at Summer's End

Every year without fail, some quarrelsome pedant or other may be counted on to argue that the end of summer is actually the autumnal equinox and not Labor Day weekend. Woe is me, this Labor Day weekend I seem to be awash in pedants, more so than usual, and I am tired. Maybe it's the torrential rain, maybe it's the subsequent heat and humidity. How hot and humid is it? Hot and humid enough that gadgets large and small at the U.S. Open were malfunctioning, from the ticket scanners to the big video screens. But not to complain, I'm glad I could attend this year after missing last year.



Then again, I rather doubt heat and humidity explain the inane questions this interviewer put to rising star Naomi Osaka, who bore it with patient good humor and only a little side-eyeing. Edited to add: Naomi Osaka went on to win her first major title, decisively upsetting six-time champion Serena Williams in what also became the most controversial final match in U.S. Open history.



It also doesn't explain these tomatoes. I planted what was supposed to be an orange cherry tomato plant, that is, a plant that bears orange-colored cherry-sized tomatoes, but what grew was an orange-colored slicer. Oh well. They're tasty, strikingly colored, sub-acid, and sufficiently plentiful for a half batch of Orange Tomato Jam. It would have been a full batch, but some hungry pedants gorged on a few.



After a bit of cauldron work, I had – dare one say it? – summer's end in a jar. I used 20% less sugar than the recipe specifies, white vinegar instead of cider vinegar, and gochugaru instead of smoked paprika and cayenne. I'm happy with its flavor and especially that it held its color through cooking down and processing. We shall see how it holds up in storage – if the hungry pedants don't eat it first.



Some pedants insist on no white after Labor Day. Scofflaw that I am, I cast on a white linen Featherweight Cardigan by Hannah Fettig. Although it's hot and humid outdoors, I could use a little something in the frigid air-conditioned indoors.



It must be admitted the project involves a scofflaw's gambit – that it will be finished before the onset of cooler weather and so can be worn this season. Also a scofflaw's optimism that if not, it can be worn next season. Tralala.

Excuses

Whoa, somehow almost the entire months of March and April have zipped by, full of whoa and woe, and I got nothing, except maybe excuses for not blogging. They're reasonably good excuses.

First, two of my trees split during the endless series of nor'easters in March. Here's one, the other wasn't as photogenic. So many other trees roundabout Exit 151 were damaged in the storms, it took a long time to get on the queue for tree service. Woe.



There was a modicum of sock knitting. I finished one Fée Dragée on time, so qualified for Sock Madness patterns, but not for competition. Which given all the other cray-cray going on at casa Jersey Knitter is just as well. I thought about unpicking the toe, then figured whoa, it's not broke, so don't fix it.



There was a LOT of traveling and a little knitting on planes and trains. Most of the time I was so frazzled, I forgot to bring my mini-Beyoncé, and when I remembered to pack her, I forgot to get her out to take pix. Then I forgot where I put this Soul Mate Hearts Sock, and it remains unfinished. Woe.



I was so busy, I almost missed the cherry blossoms. Gentle readers know that is most unlike me. Whoa! Woe!



So so long to March and April, full of whoa and woe. They were enough to make one collapse in a quivering heap of protoplasm. They were enough to make one decide to skip MDS&W. They were enough to make one sigh, "Il faut cultiver notre jardin."



Wait. I have asparagus. That changes everything!

What They Were Thinking

It's been a cool and soggy Memorial Day weekend roundabout Exit 151, and I don't mean the uproar over a certain sportswriter's selective unease about the Indy 500 winner or the pushback to a certain First Blogger's let-them-eat-cake recipe. No, no, fluff-filled brain that I have, the observation is merely meteorological – the weekend was cool and rainy.

In between the raindrops I managed to visit the Presby Iris Gardens, which lived up to their nickname, A Rainbow on the Hill. And there were plenty of buds, so the display should remain lovely for at least another week.



Gentle readers may recall that last month's quick pickled asparagus disappeared fast, which prompted me to put up the shelf-stable version for the May FIJ challenge, cold pack. This time I used Marisa McClellan's recipe for Pickled Asparagus Spears, put up in 12-oz jelly jars. Compared with the quick pickle, the processed version (unsurprisingly) is wrinkled and softer, although not as overcooked as commercial canned asparagus, and the extra heat infused the brine with the color of the red pepper flakes. There was some siphoning, nothing too distressing, and the yield was perfect. All good, except it turns out the happy hope of preserving spring bounty was mostly foiled by the insatiable munching jaws at casa Jersey Knitter. As fast as the asparagus is prepared, just so quickly it disappears! That's mostly gratifying, only slightly frustrating.



Somehow Sock Madness 11 has managed to reach Round 5, leaving me far, far behind, even for a patterns-only non-competitor. After a personal best last year, there are too many distractions this year! And my wandering attention has wandered to June Camp Loopy (and the Tour de Fleece 2017). Here's my yarn for camp, Cascade Ultra Pima. I'm wavering (again) on the pattern. This year's theme is dinosaurs; I've been assigned to Camp Stegosaurus. Although my dino totem is a Velociraptor. Perhaps that bodes well for fierce and fleet knitting? Surely it doesn't signify much frogging and shredding?



Alas, cruel reality intrudes on these pleasant knitting musings: I expect to be crazy-busy in June (and traveling on the day of the TdF Grand Départ, July 1). What am I thinking???

Ahead of the Storm

The alarming weather forecast for tomorrow is for pelting rain and 70 mph (113 kph) winds. That's bound to do some damage, so I rushed out to Branch Brook Park for a hurried look at the cherry blossoms lest I miss this year's show entirely. The main season bloomers were just shy of peak bloom. If you can't see this year's show in person, try Cherry Blossom Cam.



Inspired by jooan's wee socks, I knit a wee Rose & Thorn sock, using the fussy beaded CO, Quatrefoil Eyelet (in Treasury 1) and twist sts for the roses and thorns, eye of partridge French heel, and wedge toe. Note to self: for a wee sock, it's better to knit a plain heel flap rather than a slip-st flap, which pulls in too much for the reduced scale. I think I'm going to attach the wee sock to my purse.



Here's hoping everyone in the path of the storm stays safe and sound. See you on the other side.

Sunday Post

Friday was the first day of spring. I was traveling, it snowed, the next Sock Madness pattern dropped, and not only was I without the necessary, but also I was too busy to do anything about it. Oh, woecakes! But the daffodils were brave and so was I.



The helpful staff at The Yarn Spot remedied one problem and by Sunday I was knitting away on Cable Madness by Karen Buhr using SweetGeorgia Tough Love Sock in colorway Mulberry.



The deadline for this round is April 3. See you on the other side, if not sooner.

Spoiled

The season has turned to nightly frost warnings, so I picked what was left in the vegetable patch. This year it was sorely tried. When I wasn't paying attention marauding deer ate most plants down to foot-high stems, then rabbits and squirrels devoured any new leaves and fruit. The eggplants were particular targets. Their leaves are hairy and I've read toxic to rabbits, but the cottontails don't seem to know that. Even the onion tops were cropped to the quick. I put up a garden fence which the big creatures knocked down and the little creatures chewed clean through. I've never seen the like. It's a marvel there was anything left for us. So what I just brought in may not be the most impressive last harvest ever, but it's not bad under the circumstances.



Speaking of marauders, while I wasn't paying attention DH got cold, helped himself to the accumulating pile of watch caps meant for the mitten tree, got squawked at, promised to wash them and put them back, and somehow managed to felt them. Plus he complained they're itchy. Sigh. Too bad, he's keeping them now.

Then, as we drove along Route 1, there was a sign. Literally.



Of course we stopped. Not least because if DH was raiding the charity bin, clearly, he needs a new knit cap of his own. The cobbler's children and all that. He picked the color and I insisted on the yarn, lovely Swans Island Organic Washable Aran. An evening's worth of very enjoyable knitting latter, DH had a hat knit to his specs. The good stuff always knits up quickly.



DH is happy with his new hat, but when I went back to knitting yarn ordinaire, it seemed itchy. Alas, I'm spoiled.

Forty Percent

Despite a dusting of snow the other day, I'd say Branch Brook Park is finally at 40 percent trees blooming. The early bloomers are at peak bloom, but the majority of trees are only just starting to flush. I'm guessing peak bloom will happen on Easter Sunday or Monday. If gentle readers can't be there in person, there's always Cherry Blossom Cam.



Meanwhile, I've started a project which is also at about 40 percent.



Oh, so many ends! No matter how charming, modular projects always have so many ends!

Thanks, Deer

For reasons that escape me, gentle readers and writers roundabout the U.S. blogosphere seem to be struggling more than usual with the name of today's holiday. This as increasing numbers don't get the day off work. Well, a holiday by any other name is still a good time to take stock of the vegetable patch. That was my plan – when I got home this afternoon there was an eight-point buck standing in the backyard devouring my pepper plants. In the spirit of Canadian Thanksgiving, I suppose I should be thankful he left the tomatoes alone.



It's a reasonably decent haul compared with some years past, and there's more coming along. If the weather remains mild long enough, they may ripen – who knows?

Cherryblossomland 2013

Today is Earth Day, a perfect time to show off pix of the cherry blossoms in Branch Brook Park. I never tire of the show. The park may be less famed than the DC Tidal Basin and certainly is less formal, indeed at times veering into gritty, but there's no need for jealousy or defensiveness. After all, Cherryblossomland has its modest memorials, less impressive but perhaps more touching because they receive impromptu decoration this time of year.



There are magnificent specimen trees...



... and equally wonderful groupings of trees.



There are different vantage points from which to view the trees: the auto road, paved and unpaved footpaths, and even some high footbridges.



There are different varieties of flowering cherry tree, which bloom at different times, extending the overall bloom season. I missed one of my early-blooming favorites, but there's abundant consolation, such as these single pinks.



I'm also fond of the single whites...



... and the small pinks...



... and the ruffled double whites, which are a challenge to photograph in all their translucent complexity.



Cherry trees bloom before they fully leaf out. I always marvel that the blossoms are so dense on the trees that they cast deep shade.



And I'm amazed many of the trees that took heavy damage from Hurricane Sandy nonetheless are blooming beautifully. One can only hope damaged humans can carry on and heal as beautifully.



It's hard to tell from the photo, but this little group all have partially broken crowns, with major branches dangling and wobbling like a loose tooth – the flowers don't ordinarily sweep the ground. The crowns will likely require hard pruning, which is sad, but I figure it's better to enjoy the present beauty than to spend time bemoaning the wholesale lopping before it happens.



Lately peak bloom has been happening earlier and earlier, but this year is just about on time. I wonder if that's an unforeseen consequence of severe weather. Plus ça changement climatique? So fret not, gentle readers in the area! If you've missed the show thus far, the late blooming ruffled double pinks are still to come.