Hawai'i Wildfires

I had intended to blog cheerily about my newest FO, but instead have been riveted by the devastating wildfires on the island of Maui and the island of Hawaii. After some research I've added the donate button to the right in support of a local fund addressing immediate needs on both islands through a network of churches, the Hawai'i 2023 Wildfires Relief Fund. Or you may prefer the Maui Strong Fund, also local, which funds other nonprofits and focuses on the island of Maui.

And here's the FO, a water bottle cozy. I'm quite pleased with this one. I use 'em to protect the finish on my water bottle when it's in my tote bag.



Although the irony of finishing a water bottle cozy while watching a conflagration just guts me.

Another!

If you know, you know. That scene in the diner when Thor smashes his coffee mug and demands, "Another!" Also beverage-related, I've started another water bottle cozy. This is the base. There's no pattern, just crocheting around.



It seems an auspicious way to begin blogging again, again.

Souvenirs

Of course now I can't wash my hand.



I had a good time at Rhinebeck. It was strangely warm this year – not as warm as last year, yet warm enough that heavy coats were not needed and I took off my Blue Wave hat. In the afternoon it briefly rained buckets, more a summer downpour than an autumn rain. The trees were barely turned, too, in the Hudson Valley in the third week of October. Perhaps it's true climate change is coming for our yarn. Hm.



However that may be, it was good to be at the fair, good to be with congenial company, good to see so many handknits and so many clusters of knitters doing their things, as the Stitch Marker Swappers, above.



There even were sheepie cookies. Which is enough, and more than enough.

Edited to add:



Although I didn't have time to knit a new Rhinebeck sweater, I re-purposed an in-the-round Angry Sheep gauge swatch into a cozy for my Zojirushi. I love my Zojirushi, which is a thermal bottle that keeps hot beverages hot and cold beverages cold. The cozy is to protect its finish as it clanks around in my tote bag, not because it needs extra insulation. The swatch is from the yoke of the cardi, which tapers, and the taper in the swatch rather nicely matches the taper in the Zojirushi. Happiness.

Beyond Categorization

Per expectation, thus far the month of June has been a whirlwind of busy. If June were a mountain in a stage of the Tour de France, the term hors catégorie or HC – beyond categorization – would not be inappropriate. But there's no point in saying, "I told you so." Onward and upward!



A minor annoyance amidst all the to-ing and fro-ing has been the persistent clanking noises emanating from my tote bag, caused by divers things striking my fancy stainless steel water bottle. To reduce the noise and to prevent damage to its finish, I went over to the dark side and crocheted a water bottle cozy from some Lily Sugar 'n Cream acquired on the fly at a big box store. (The colorway is Lava Lamp. Really?) There's no pattern, just granny-ing along. It works pretty well. Ah, blessèd freedom from clanking!



The FIJ June challenge, jam, posed a vexing challenge at the beginning of the month: there's not a lot of fresh local fruit roundabout Exit 151. Thus the appeal of this unexpected recipe for Dried Apricot Jam. Although perhaps by now gentle readers know better than to be surprised that intrepid canners can put up almost anything. And although it's no surprise a plant-rich diet has a great impact on curbing global warming, according to the rankings in Drawdown, eating imported fruits and vegetables has less environmental impact than eating local beef. Put another way, a plant-based diet is so much better for the planet than red meat, transportation considerations become negligible. Also, while eating local seasonal produce is great taste-wise and it supports local farmers, it doesn't do that much environmental good. Huh.



Anyway, the jam technique is simple: dice dried apricots, rehydrate overnight, cook down with sugar and a bit of lemon juice until jammy. (That's a technical term.) My poor digicam could not capture how variable in color and texture the rehydrating bits looked – some bits were almost white, wrinkled, and tough, some bits were deep orange and very soft. In the pot the bits broke down and deepened in hue in a most satisfactory way, and the results were excellent in all ways: delicious, convenient, and a spot-on yield. I put up one half-pint jar to use in jam cake and three quarter-pints for other uses. Happiness.

Time passed, and lovely fresh apricots became available in the markets. So I did the obvious, bought some fresh apricots with the intent of doing a jam-off. Unfortunately more time passed, and about half the apricots went bad before I could do that (oops, food waste). Ahem.



The recipe for Simple Apricot Jam is as minimalist as it gets: two ingredients, chopped fruit and sugar in a 3:1 ratio by weight, let macerate overnight, cook down. That's it. The formula works for other peel-on, high-acid fruit, too. I neglected to take a pic of the chopped fruit, but the bits were deeply colored and firm-textured, with velvet skin. In the pot everything cooked down into a beautiful golden paste that was thin at first, but slowly thickened into jamminess. The odor was heavenly.



I started with 27 oz. (.765 kg) chopped fruit and 9 oz (.255 kg) sugar, and ended with four quarter-pints and some well-licked implements.



Initially I'd thought of a doing taste-off between apricot jam made from dried fruit and apricot jam made from fresh fruit. Now I know there's no comparison. Dried Apricot Jam is excellent; Simple Apricot Jam is early summer in a jar. I could tell by the smell when it was cooking down that it would be too good for putting in jam cake, so I changed the put-up to all small jars. One may as well call it HC Apricot Jam.

Reactionary

Over the weekend DH and I visited Winterthur, a former du Pont estate turned museum. DH likes visiting Winterthur; I can take it or leave it. It's a beautiful place to be sure, but I've frequently felt a disdainful chill from the often unhelpful staff, as if they resent the visitors whose admission fees pay the upkeep. It was no surprise that although we came to gawp at were attracted by the exhibit of costumes from Downton Abbey, I ended up liking other exhibits of historical items more. Although it was fun to ring a pull bell and to see Sybil's harem frock in person.



The vast permanent collection of the museum is focused on Americana, including quilts and samplers. Inspired by the humbler items, I crocheted up some Cream Circles to use as hotpads. My version, in Lily Sugar 'n Cream, is smaller and lacks the scalloped edge of the pattern.



It's always well to have a stack of new hotpads ready for the feasting season.

Ravellenics 2014 Recap

Continuing the catch-up: Last month there was a modest amount of Ravellenic crafting roundabout Exit 151. I crocheted three pinky granny hearts to use as hotpads because I was getting sick of all the snow. Which only seemed to encourage more snow to fall the day before Valentine's Day.



I picked at my old Scar socks, which were cast on in ::cough:: September 2007. Since then, there have been many, many attempts to complete them and many, many appearances with the year-end Socks of Shame. Here's where I started this time.



And here's where I finished. One pair = one less UFO, one less Sock of Shame!



That left me contemplating my almost-finished Betty's Tee (front view).



I love the pattern and the yarns, but the combination just wasn't working (back view).



So there was nothing else to do but frog (frogged view).



Thus Ravellenic glory was mine in three events. I claimed my event medals, but didn't bother with the technique medals available. The giant kerfuffle over human rights before the games made me realize I'm on Team Simplify rather than on Team Many Rules. From my perspective the stakes in a knit-along pale in comparison to the stakes in real life geopolitical crises, such as the crisis in Ukraine. Although I do enjoy seeing a Bobicus or three on my blog.



I ordered the 2014 Ravellenics pin, delivery pending. When it arrives, my Games will be complete.

Sugar High

The sweater cookies for the cookie swap were a success, sort of. When a cookie swap goes well, I enjoy bringing a box of my cookies, socializing a bit, and returning home with a box of assorted cookies. When things don't go quite right, it's blog fodder!



I've swapped cookies with this group for years – in the past the cookies have tended toward a high degree of technical and artistic difficulty, which I appreciate. So I figured a strong showing – good-sized fancy cookies with royal icing and sprinkles – was merited. DH lent a hand with the decorating (also with the taste-testing of less choice specimens), and in short order there was more than a sufficient number for the swap. I always make extra in case of breakage (and for judicious sampling), and was pleased this time there was only one casualty, a sweater with a broken arm, which was decorated with a purple heart and retired from the fray.

It seems to me that a successful swap of any kind requires a certain level of equity. In the case of a cookie swap, that means all participants bring the number of cookies requested by the hostess and all participants put a reasonable amount of effort into their offerings. Alas, this year some participants brought only half the requested number, some brought bar cookies divided into the requisite number of pieces, albeit smaller than micro SD cards, but all participants brought their usual unyielding warrior princess spirit. And then there were my sweater cookies.

Civilization began crumbling pretty much immediately. For one thing, I was out of the room when the swap started. I'm told there was an initial dismayed exclamation, "They're all different!" A certain amount of bad behavior followed. At this swap each participant's cookies are placed on a big table around which the sharks swappers circle, collecting their prizes. This orderly process broke down when some participants spied a sweater cookie they particularly coveted and swooped over the table to grab it, taking an extra turn and occasioning some tense conversations.

Swooper: "Oh, sorry, did you want that one?"
Swooped-upon: "Well, yeah."
Swooper: "But I touched it already. There, now I've touched it twice."
Swooped-upon: "I still want it."

Christmas cookie swapping, it's serious business roundabout Exit 151. The competition was mildly entertaining and gratifying to me, a bit aggravating for the other swappers. I was surprised the most popular sweater cookie colors were pinky-red (the red food coloring would not tint the icing a true red) and green; the least popular were black (the black food coloring was highly effective) and yellow. Then it was my turn to become annoyed when it was suggested that it would be OK if I went home with fewer cookies than I brought, and none of my own, so there would be more sweaters for the other swappers and especially for the person who made the suggestion. Um, nope. Nope, nope, nope.



It was almost enough to make me pack up the remainder of my cookies and head home to watch Yule log cam. But the group got that flash of overt greed tamped down and I persevered, only to have the concept of Ugly Christmas Sweaters and how ironic it was I made Ugly Christmas Sweater cookies painstakingly explained to me. Which was kind, or ironic, or remarkably stupid, because I was wearing a vintage Ugly Christmas Sweater. Yule log cam, take me away!



ETA: While sitting by the fire I started a new project, a cozy for my new non-Thermos brand insulated beverage container. What does one call such things?



It's – ::gasp:: – a crochet-knit hybrid.

Winning

My last project for the knit-along presently known as the Ravellenic Games was a Knitted Wreath by Julie Weisenberger. I was cranking out the leaves while watching the Olympics™ Closing Ceremony...



... then discovered the deadline for finishing Ravellenics projects was before the broadcast started in the U.S. Oops. Nuts. I also discovered that substituting pipe cleaners for the wreath frame specified in the pattern isn't satisfactory, but brim wire works decently well.



There are quite enough hoops to jump through both in craft and in life as it is, so that's what I used. The wreath earned no Ravellenics glory, but I still think of it as my Wreath o' Victory. My version is beadless and has more of a wistful air than a domineering presence.



Meanwhile, after that kerfuffle over names, I was surprised to read in the Wall Street Journal that USOC has no plans to stop the Romney Olympics. (No surprise the WSJ knows about Ravelry.) I was further taken by WaPo's account of the candidate's competitive streak and reaction to losing the Romney Olympics triathlon – he changed the rules to favor himself. Huh. While I do enjoy winning, I've never been big on competitive sports one way or another – it's the hardcore fans who say sports not so much shapes character as reveals it.

Cranking

It's the day after (U.S.) tax day and there's not much to say. In between working on taxes I've been cranking out scarves of Red Heart for my church project. I've forced myself managed to finish two so far. shudder

   

Corazon Rojo has proved to be surprisingly full of knots, a minimum of one a skein. I woulda thunk yarn shot from spinnerets would be immune to the problem. The knots do not disrupt the color runs, unlike knots in Noro, which often do. I suppose that means Corazon Rojo is spun, then dyed while Noro is dyed, then spun.



I've also been cranking out granny squares to use as hotpads, vaguely inspired by Granny Circle Placemats and using the Adjustable Loop start. They're strangely compelling – can't make just one.



To do my bit for informed citizenship, I crunched the numbers and calculated my nominal and effective federal income tax rates. It's not difficult. To find your nominal rate, look up your adjusted gross income (Form 1040, Line 37) in a rate chart or plug it into an online tax calculator. To figure your effective tax rate, divide your total tax (Form 1040, Line 61) by your adjusted gross income (Form 1040, Line 37) and multiply by 100.

No surprise, my nominal rate is much higher than Mitt Romney's effective rate on much less income. I get a deduction for state and local taxes paid, so my effective rate is lower than my nominal rate. But if Mr. Romney were to have his way, his federal income tax bill would decrease further and mine will more than double. He's OK with that. I'm not. Like I said, no surprise.

Under the Influenza

Suddenly I've developed the nastiest of all nasties, like a flu in onset, like a heavy cold in misery. I haven't been this congested since the last millennium. When you mix general bleariness and a whole lot of OTC cold remedies...



... with a charm pack and a quilt block project for Church of the Sharp Elbows...



... wobbly crafting ensues. You know how the cold remedy labels advise, "Do not operate machinery"? Apparently that includes sewing machines. Yet I persevered and crafted on.

Here's my first quilt block. In my current state I'm somewhat amused that the house – yes, it's supposed to be a house – would appear to have settled, which ::cough:: explains why the walls and chimneys aren't precisely vertical. Nothing a bit of sashing couldn't fix. Also, the walls and the window don't contrast enough. I'm tempted to fix that with a laundry marker.



This was my first attempt at paper piecing. I can see why quilters like the technique – it's a simple way to achieve a high degree of fussy. Speaking of which, this block most likely isn't up to the high standards of the Quilting Guild at Church of the Sharp Elbows, which means I'll be keeping it and making another to donate. So what does one do with just one quilt block?

Crochety

I'm back from a somewhat draining conference. The speakers were excellent and the other attendees congenial, but I'm really tired and crabby. At least during the plenary sessions I managed to do a bit of crocheting in public and thus have something to show off to gentle readers, a bunch of whimisical Slippah Luggage Tags.



My luggage looked pretty much like everybody else's until I added a pair of Slippahs. I thought about making the cord maybe 20% longer than specified in the pattern, but will see how these hold up. They're so quick, easy, and thrifty – these are bits of Sugar 'n Cream left over from divers washcloths – that it's no trouble to make more impossible to make just one pair.



There, I feel better now.