Weird December

What a weird December! It's the day before Christmas eve: 63° F (17° C) outdoors, Blogger keeps bouncing this post, and I still haven't found the holiday stemware [eyeroll]. At least our Christmas ornaments are up.



I made these when DH and I were engaged to be married. We've used them every Christmas. They're St. Nick Knacks from Vogue Patterns 1754, made using DMC cotton embroidery floss on wool felt, with kapok stuffing and gold cord and satin ribbon trim. I pretty much followed the pattern; were I to make more, I'd make the hanging loops shorter and use filament instead of ribbon.

As long as the month has been so weird, here's the Weird Things Meme:

1. I don't play memetag. That's not a judgment on bloggers who enjoy memes, just my (weird) choice. But, heck, it's Christmas and Deborah tagged me.

2. When kraken appear in movies, I think, "LOOK at all that yummy sashimi!"

3. One of my favorite search engines is elgooG, the Google mirror site.

4. Dry weather gives me nosebleeds.

5. I love mini-knitting (click photos to view larger).



I'm looking forward to the exhibit of micro-knitting in "Radical Lace & Subversive Knitting" at the Museum of Arts & Design next year. Be sure to click on the exhibit link – the pair of 1:144 scale gloves are not to be missed.

6. Generic greetings such as "Happy Holidays!" seem fine to me; conversely, I'm usually pleased rather than offended when someone wishes me a specific holiday that I don't observe. Unless there's a self-righteous implication I ought to convert, conform, and stop being so weird.


Consider yourself tagged if you like. Or not. Here's THE RULES for this meme.

THE RULES: Each player of this game starts with the "6 weird things about you." People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as stated in this rule clearly.

In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says that "you are tagged" in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

Wishing you Happy Holidays!

The Steadfast Cookie Monsters

At the open of winter, there's not a whole lot of knitting going on roundabout Exit 151. Instead, here's a morality play with an opinion poll at the end.

The steadfast cookie monsters roundabout Exit 151 want only one cookie for Christmas and they wait for it to appear, initially with happy anticipation, but eventually with diminishing patience. They endure the annual list-making and the gathering of exotic, irrelevent-to-them ingredients. They may even volunteer to go to the store when it is discovered (mid-recipe, of course) that almost every form of cane sugar known to humankind is in the pantry, but no flour. They narrowly observe production because the baker likes seasonal variation, is unconvinced THE cookie is really a Christmas cookie, and has been known to do Very Bad Things.

These Christmas cookies were pronounced "okay."



But these unfortunates were mocked (click here to view).

These nearly provoked a riot. There were loud protests over the adulterated chips and dough. Curiously, the fact the chips are vanilla-flavored and not mint, as their appearance might suggest, only intensified the claims they are unacceptably mutated food. And if those affronts weren't cause enough, there was the additional concern the baker might assert the Frankencookies (it takes a monster to know one) are an adequate substitute for THE Christmas cookie. Which would be a very, very, very bad thing.

In the interest of world peace the baker stayed up late and made a batch of chocolate chip cookies using the recipe on the package except with double vanilla, one-and-a-half times semi-sweet chocolate chips, no nuts. The baker had some excellent Bromilow's chips on hand and stirred a few into the dough. Here's what's left of the batch.



The steadfast cookie monsters were instantly mollified, indeed were happy and pleased. They also noticed the modification, but didn't mind it so much. The baker, on the other hand, thinks the richly flavored Bromilow's chips may be better in a cold dessert such as cannoli or cheesecake, or simply for eating out of hand.

Which leaves the poll question: Is it a Very Bad Thing to foist give Frankencookies to one's neighbors or bring them to SnB? Howabout church coffee hour?? Register your vote!

What to do with the Frankencookies?
	Give them to the neighbors
	Bring them to SnB
	Serve them during church coffee hour
	Any of the above are OK
	All of the above are Very Bad Things
	Dunno
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Back from Croatan

That was weird. The blog went missing last night. Perhaps it was abducted by space aliens (that'll learn me to keep so many UFOs buzzing roundabout Area 151). Judging from the chronometer, after about six hours in a parallel dimension, it migrated. Now it has some shiny new implants features, notably Labels, which are similar to TypePad Categories. [ETA: Comments are cooler now, too.] Otherwise it seems unchanged. All in all, migration was not so bad.

   

During the lost time one UFO, an unloved multi-directional scarf, morphed into a shoulder wrap, Tie One On by nona. Her clever pattern comes in three flavors; I picked the Mellow Green version and used Stacy Charles Ritratto in colorway 64 for the MC and Rowan Kidsilk Haze in colorway 630 Fondant for the CC. Here it is with the body finished but without the ties.



Tie One On is one of those garments that look better, well, tied on than photographed flat, but my photography assistant took the day off and went on a three-hour cruise in the Bermuda Triangle. I knit to gauge; next time I'd make it slightly bigger for more ease. Just a personal preference – the pattern is fine as written.

I'd make more of these useful wraps, but I'm pretty sure Santa has a lace book in his sleigh, so am holding off casting on. In the meantime, I'm going to try to add labels to old posts. Let me know if you notice anything amiss – broken links, missing photos, strange RSS feeds, split infinitives, alien spawn, etc.

Yarn Aboard! Port of Call: Exit 151

After Marco Polo was hijacked twice in the course of his Yarn Aboard! travels, Amanda retired the unlucky Venetian in favor of a formidable Welshman: Captain Sir Henry Morgan. Soldier, privateer, sometime governor of Jamaica, namesake of the spiced rum, and inspiration for John Steinbeck's first published novel, Cup of Gold, as well as Captain Blood, Sir Henry always delivered the plunder goods. This time was no exception. He arrived roundabout Exit 151 on Friday with a lavish cargo, having made excellent speed from Lisa to me.

And what a cargo! Thank you, Lisa – it's like Christmas came early. I love everything. I love the lime-in-the-coconut colors of the Rhode Island postcard, polka-dot notebook, elegant WPI tool, coconut-lime-verbena shimmer lotion, and change purse made of a teeny sock. I'd been using whatever was handy to measure wraps per inch – how wonderful to have a proper gadget that combines beauty and functionality.



I love all the fibery goodness: highly covetable Crown Mountain Farms Sock Hop roving in colorway Blue Suede Shoes, Woolgatherings rainbow Blue Face Leicester roving, and orange mohair. Now that I've dipped a toe, so to speak, into the art and craft of dyeing, I really appreciate the work of master colorists. I've got many happy spinning hours ahead.



And I love the yummy treats. The Fair Trade chocolate vanished immediately, culprits unknown. I was intrigued with the all-natural, not too sweet Del's lemonade mix. So good! DH is a Newport Creamery awful awful fanatic, but next time we're in Rhode Island, we must stop at Del's.

One doesn't like to leave houseguests unattended, particularly guests with this one's propensity to pillage, but holiday commitments intervened. I suggested Sir Henry might enjoy an outing to see the exhibition of a magnificent autograph copy (ie, a book manuscript written in the author's own hand) of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, on display at the Morgan Library. (Knit the Classics is reading the book this month.) Despite his literary leanings and the possibility of a distant family connection, Sir Henry indicated he preferred a quiet night in. So we left him home alone. We returned to find the old boozehound had enjoyed a wee drappie but was still standing, albeit with the assistance of a clipboard.



The next day Sir Henry showed no extra sensitivity to light or noise and sailed promptly with the tide on a southerly heading to his next port of call. But not without first offering a raucous three cheers and 21-gun salute to clever Amanda for organizing (and re-organizing) this very excellent swap. I've enjoyed following the peregrinations of the several explorers and look forward to seeing all of them return safely to their home port. Hip, hip, hooray Amanda!!

Nope

Well, that didn't work. The blog is still here in un-migrated (pre-migrated?) form. At least it's not splinched. At least I hope not... but, how to know? Argh, epistemological doubt!

Kim mentioned she no longer can see pictures on my blog while at work. Sorry to hear that. I don't think that's a consequence of attempted migration and I'm also pretty sure my photo host is working OK. Maybe all the yarn pr0n alarmed your IT administrator and images are blocked?

To round out Fun With Computers time, I spent a frustrating 16 hours updating my anti-virus software. That's what happens when 21st century technology interfaces with my computer, which is akin to a hamster running on a wheel [squeak, squeak – the wheel, not the hamster]. When finally installed, the newly robust program promptly quarantined and deleted a bunch of email messages. Uh, if you're expecting an email response from me, kindly remind me what it is I'm supposed to know.

While waiting for the hourglass icon and the spinning icon to signify that which is signified, I rummaged through boxes in the basement searching for holiday stemware. Didn't find 'em. [Sigh] I know perfectly well we have more holiday stuff than three salad plates, two mismatched mugs, and two cups and saucers.



However, I did find this promising-looking box.



Now here's an epistemological certainty: you know you're far gone when your stash is labeled by place of origin.