Grow little seeds, Grow! 
- posted by Laurie @ 6:22 PM |

 
New Seeds

Look at our new seed starting shelf! After one successful trip to Menard's, I rigged up a shop light to a set of metal shelves. The set of shelves looked rather small in the box, but they turned out to be pretty huge. Sure, I read the dimensions printed on the box, it just that 72 inches didn't mean much to me until I lifted the shelves up against the wall and realized the top shelf was way over my head. Can you believe I put this whole thing together myself? Yeah me!

The shelves have taken over a wall in our family room, but for now it looks pretty decent. Randy hoped I'd move the contraption down to the basement, but I'm afraid if we leave the seeds down there, I'll forget them. With everything in the room we live the most in, I should be able to give them the daily attention they'll need. Hopefully the shelves will look even nicer with a bunch of green plants growing on them. For now, I only set up one shop light on one shelf. Later this week, I plan to buy two more shop lights.

This afternoon, I set out a tray of onion and broccoli seeds. These are not the easiest seeds to learn to propagate with, so this should be interesting. I only set out a few of each, so I still have plenty of seeds left in the pack. If this attempt totally bombs, I'll plant the remaining seeds outside in late April.

Of course, this means it is time to buy more seeds. All of my vegetable seeds arrived in the mail and are waiting to be planted, but it is time to buy some flower seeds. This week, I plan to run by Kelly Seed, the best garden supply store in our area. It's a Ma and Pa store--kinda a throw back to an old-fashioned hardware and farm supply store. This time of year, the store's isles are cram-packed with trowels of various sizes, boxes full of peat pots, garden clogs, leather gloves, assorted bulbs, bags of bone meal, and of course seeds. I've got a list, and it is time to stock up.

My sister Mary asked where to go to get some basic gardening know-how. This is a question I'm still looking to answer. I've checked out most of the gardening books available at my local library, and I find that the experts who write these books often contradict each other. I also find I do not enjoy the books that are strictly "how to"' books. Instead, I prefer the books that are more chatty than informative. This may make for great reading, but I'm not sure if I'm building my gardening "chops." Our sister Wendy once recommended kid gardening books, because they break down gardening to it's most basic. On the internet, I like the web site You Grow Girl, though it has not been updated in a while. It seems like a lot of experienced gardeners participate in the GardenWeb forums, which I browse from time to time. This year, I'm hoping to learn the most about gardening by spending time with my hands in the dirt.
- posted by Laurie @ 6:16 PM |

 
Unfaithful

Usually, I am a monogamous knitter. One project at a time, from the first cast-on stitch to the final bit of fussing with the buttons. One project just takes over my life, and I can focus on nothing else at the same time.

While I'm plodding along with the project, I may dream of other knitting ideas. The urge to buy more wool, the temptation to pick up another set of needles, the wish for something...more... is always present. I may gaze at past editions of knitting magazines, I may page through my binder full of patterns, but usually the desire to finish "old faithful" keeps me plucking along with one project at a time.

Lately, I've been dallying. While Sarah's Baby Blanket gets most of my time, I've been tempted to take up a few new threads. We'll call them side projects. Acquaintances. Mere flirtations until the last patch of the baby blanket is cast off, the boarder stitched, and the loose ends woven into place.


Sock it to me!

The Swizzle Socks got started in the fall before I devoted myself to Randy's sweater. One sock down, the ribbing band of the other sock barely started. A minor indiscretion, really.


This scarf is light and airy, really!

This mohair lace scarf is more a bit of doodling than an actual commitment. While I'm always drawn to these autumn colors, the mohair fabric is far too scratchy to actually wear. And it sheds. Every time I pick up this project, I end up coated in fluff. Imagine how the scarf would treat my black wool coat. One turn about town with this scarf on, and I'd end up looking like a shaggy ol' sheep dog.

This scarf is just a passing fancy. I consider it a lesson in lace knitting. Following the chart, recognizing the yarn overs from the actual stitches when they fall off the needle, understanding how the fabric works--that's my goal here. It's all for the benefit of the future lace projects I want to start. This scarf will probably find it's way to the Goodwill Pile once it's actually finished.


Just a few rows of knitting on the neckline

And Blue Shimmer. This sweater has been calling to me from my yarn stash for a year and a half. I keep promising myself I'll take it up--once I finish one more project. I've told myself over and over to wait until I can really devote myself wholeheartedly to the tiny stitches, the color charts, and stitch pattern. The other night temptation overcame me. I threw caution to the wind and cast on the neck band.

I'd like to turn all of my attention and energy to the sweater, but it is not meant to be. Sarah's baby is due in just six weeks, and the blanket needs my undivided devotion. Patience, Laurie, patience. If there is anything I've learned from knitting, it is delayed gratification.
- posted by Laurie @ 8:37 PM |

 

Sarah's Baby Blanket is nearly one-third finished. Look at all those ends to sew in! 
- posted by Laurie @ 1:40 PM |

 
Sarah's Baby Blanket continues at a slow-but-steady rate. There are hundreds of knitting bloggers on the 'net, and I must be among the slowest one out there? There are some very prolific knitters in the internet blogdom, and alas, I am not one. I knit a little every night, making lumbering progress like the proverbial turtle towards the ocean. With the baby blanket, my progress is slowed down by the start-and-stop nature of this blanket. Picking up stitches to knit the patchwork squares takes some time.

The latest edition of Interweave Knits has an example of a blanket similar to the one I'm trying to make. The Bear Claw Blanket in the mag is also made with garter stitch squares. The sample photographed in the magazine epitomizes what I'd like my baby blanket to look like. It has crisp corners, and the squares look like they join together seamlessly. My blanket has little puckers in the corners where the squares meet, and the sample of the magazine looks entirely pucker-free.


Bear Claw Blanket by Veronik Avery. Notice how smoothly and seamlessly the blocks of color flow together. Very lovely.


Reading through the instructions for the Bear Claw Blanket, I think I see a few reasons why this is so. For one thing, the magazine's version is knitted with a finer yarn and smaller needles. I'm about at the point where I give up on worsted-weight yarn all together. While the thicker yarn is easy to find and fast to knit, the results are too often clunky and disappointing.

The Bear Claw instructions say to pick up stitches with a small needle, and then to switch to a larger needle for knitting the square. I've tried this out on my own blanket, and it does make the transition between two squares appear more smooth. It is still a mystery to me how the knitter of the blanket in the magazine achieved the crisp, pucker-free corners where the squares meet. My problem is that with the thick yarn I am using there is not a good place to pick up a stitch at the corners. Either I leave too large of a gap, which creates the pucker, or I have to pick up a stitch too far in from the edge, which makes the edges of the new square look uneven. I've decided to err on the side of the pucker throughout my blanket, so I guess this is a kind of consistency.

All together, my blanket is not as perfect as I'd like it to be. Sign. I suppose I can caulk this up as a learning experience. It's just...since this is a gift, I'd like it to be a little closer to my ideal.

Interweave Knits remains my favorite knitting mag. There are lots out there, and over time I've bought them all. Lately, though, I've limited magazine subscription to Interweave. While I don't think any of the patterns in the magazine have inspired to actually knit them up, this issue is a great read. The article about recycled knittting was my favorite. It features the idea of using plastic shopping bags and thriftstore sweaters for yarn. I have some old sweaters from my high school days lining the bottom of my cedar chest. I never wear the old things--they are just too thick and baggy. Imagine the oversized-sweater-and-black-leggings look of the '80s. I've thought of turning the old sweaters into throw pillows, so the old things can see the light of day.

Of course, this project might require me to pull out my sewing machine, and my sewing machine and I have not been on speaking terms for several years. Is it time to try again with this relationship?
- posted by Laurie @ 1:28 PM |

 

Small cloin purse with a counted-cross stitch design, tassels, and a shoulder strap made of ribbon. 
- posted by Laurie @ 6:52 PM |

 
Memory Box

How about something new here at PrairieTide? Down in the basement, I've kept a box labeled "Memories." I've been wondering what's in the box, but I've also had this reluctance to go through it. Sometimes it's easier to leave memories tucked away in the basement. This morning, I asked Randy to help me carry it upstairs. My mom sent me the box when she moved last. It's full of a bunch of stuff from when I was growing up, old report cards and art projects, that kind of thing. Every now and then, I plan to reach into the box, pull something out at random, and write about.

Right on top of the box was a Hmong coin purse that was given to me when I was probably in the 8th grade. Back then, my family was participating in a church outreach program for the growing Hmong and Laotian community in Modesto, California. Each Sunday, we went to a small Mormon church service with a community of recent immigrants who were deeply engaged in learning English, learning their way around their new California home, and adapting to a new way of life. I always considered it a real honor to grow up as a kid getting to know this wonderful group of people. Both the Hmong and the Laotian communities have rich cultural traditions they brought with them to California, and growing up we were lucky enough to learn more about their lives.

The Hmong women had long practiced a traditional needlework form called "pa njau", and in California they began adapting their handiwork to a new market. Recently, I've seen beautiful pa njau artwork displayed in museums and art galleries. There are different types of pa njau. Some pieces use pictures to tell a story, often the epic journeys the Hmong made, leaving their homeland in Laos during the aftermath of the Vietnam War, finding temporary shelter in crowded Thai refugee camps, to making new lives the United States. Other pa njau pieces use more geometric symbols, overlying strips of fabric combined with colorful cross stitch in traditional patterns.

The Hmong artwork I've seen lately uses a pallet more adapted to modern tastes. Rich blues and subtle grays with hints of rose. What strikes me about the little coin purse is the funky colors. The brown, green, and gold fabric pocket set off by the red, white, and blue pompoms. Maybe it's my imagination, but it looks to me like a melding of two traditions. The Hmong way of life with it's earthy colors and traditional symbols, contrasting with the brash American red, white, and blue jangles along the edges. Together is is a collage of two worlds coming together.

A few years back, I found a book called The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. It's a non-fiction book about a Hmong family with a daughter who has severe seizures. The book portrays the difficulty the modern medical doctors, social workers, and other careworkers have understanding the family, which leads to a tragic outcome. It's a fascinating exploration of the way two different cultures view health and medicine, and it also portrays the California Hmong community as a resilient force that continues to exhibit a strong, sometimes stubborn, cultural identity.

As I study the little coin purse, I'm not sure who gave it to me. Members of our church group gave our family a number of handmade treasures. At one point, I was even given a dress with elaborate stitches around the hem. Looking at the little coin pocket, I hope I was a grateful receiver, though I'm pretty sure I never used it. The purse is only big enough to hold a few coins, and at the time I probably thought it didn't match my cool '80s fashions. Since I moved away from California during my college years, I've completely lost touch with most of my old friends. This, I admit, is one of my deep regrets.

Hmong culture is such an interesting addition to the American way of life. I like to imagine that in a few years a new generation of artists will emerge from the Hmong community, writers and painters and filmmakers who will bring this culture more recognition and understanding.
- posted by Laurie @ 6:43 PM |

 
Memory Box

How about something new here at PrairieTide? Down in the basement, I've kept a box labeled "Memories." I've been wondering what's in the box, but I've also had this reluctance to go through it. Sometimes it's easier to leave memories tucked away in the basement. This morning, I asked Randy to help me carry it upstairs. My mom sent me the box when she moved last. It's full of a bunch of stuff from when I was growing up, old report cards and art projects, that kind of thing. Every now and then, I plan to reach into the box, pull something out at random, and write about.

Right on top of the box was a Hmong coin purse that was given to me when I was probably in the 8th grade. Back then, my family was participating in a church outreach program for the growing Hmong and Laotian community in Modesto, California. Each Sunday, we went to a small Mormon church service with a community of recent immigrants who were deeply engaged in learning English, learning their way around their new California home, and adapting to a new way of life. I always considered it a real honor to grow up as a kid getting to know this wonderful group of people. Both the Hmong and the Laotian communities have rich cultural traditions they brought with them to California, and growing up we were lucky enough to learn more about their lives.

The Hmong women had long practiced a traditional needlework form called ???, and in California they began adapting their handiwork to a new market. Recently, I've seen beautiful ?? artwork displayed in museums and art galleries. There are different types of ??. Some pieces use pictures to tell a story, often the epic journeys the Hmong made, leaving their homeland in Laos during the aftermath of the Vietnam War, finding temporary shelter in crowded Thai refugee camps, to making new lives the United States. Other ??? pieces use more geometric symbols, overlying strips of fabric combined with colorful cross stitch in traditional patterns.

The Hmong artwork I've seen lately uses a pallet more adapted to modern tastes. Rich blues and subtle grays with hints of rose. What strikes me about the little coin purse is the funky colors. The brown, green, and gold fabric pocket set off by the red, white, and blue pompoms. Maybe it's my imagination, but it looks to me like a melding of two traditions. The Hmong way of life with it's earthy colors and traditional symbols, contrasting with the brash American red, white, and blue jangles along the edges. Together is is a collage of two worlds coming together.

A few years back, I found a book called The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. It's a non-fiction book about a Hmong family with a daughter who has severe seizures. The book portrays the difficulty the modern medical doctors, social workers, and other careworkers have understanding the family, which leads to a tragic outcome. It's a fascinating exploration of the way two different cultures view health and medicine, and it also portrays the California Hmong community as a resilient force that continues to exhibit a strong, sometimes stubborn, cultural identity.

As I study the little coin purse, I'm not sure who gave it to me. Members of our church group gave our family a number of handmade treasures. At one point, I was even given a dress with elaborate stitches around the hem. Looking at the little coin pocket, I hope I was a grateful receiver, though I'm pretty sure I never used it. The purse is only big enough to hold a few coins, and at the time I probably thought it didn't match my cool '80s fashions. Since I moved away from California during my college years, I've completely lost touch with most of my old friends. This, I admit, is one of my deep regrets.

Hmong culture is such an interesting addition to the American way of life. I like to imagine that in a few years a new generation of artists will emerge from the Hmong community, writers and painters and filmmakers who will bring this culture more recognition and understanding.
- posted by Laurie @ 6:39 PM |

 
Hot Peppers, A Haiku

Love is a pepper.
The heat lingers on the lips
Long after the kiss.

I heard this poem while listening to the Vicars of Vegetables over the internet. The Vicars are two horticulture professors from the University of Wisconsin, Madison, who make a guest appearance on the local public radio station. One of the professors is an expert in Meso-American vegetables, particularly the tomato and the pepper. From him, I learned that Mexican cuisine is more pepper-based than tomato-based. His receipt for salsa includes roasted pablano peppers, tomatillas, olive oil, garlic, onion, and that's about it. From time to time, the two ask listeners to send in their vegetable hiakus, and I scrawled down the little poem above on a Post It note when I heard it over the air back in the fall.

The note has floated around in my bookbag for a couple of months, and I just ran acrossed it today. It reminds me that I want to start the first veggie seeds for my garden this week. Maybe in a few months I'll be able to make my own bowl of fresh salsa. Fresh salsa from the garden, my mouth is already watering...
- posted by Laurie @ 7:06 PM |

 

This is the top edge of the baby blanket. One row down, lots more to go... 
- posted by Laurie @ 2:44 PM |

 
Sunday is slipping by all too fast. Drat. Let's have a quick knitting update, and then we'll return to our regularly scheduled Sunday laziness.

After giving the baby blanket another inspection, I decided that I did not need to unstitch the entire thing. I just unraveled a couple of squares that had the most glaring problems. All together, the blanket is growing on me, and I'm not hating it as much as I was a week ago. The knitting is going is pretty slow, what with all the picked up stitches and small patches of color. If this blanket is to be done in time, I need to turn on some speed.

So you know what this means. Sarah, I'm afraid you may not see this baby blanket until your little one is entering kindergarten.
- posted by Laurie @ 2:30 PM |

 

We're Rambling Along... 
- posted by Laurie @ 6:17 PM |

 
My sister Sarah is getting close to her delivery date, so it's time to finish up a baby blanket for the little one. I'm using the Rambling Rows pattern by Cottage Creation, the same folks who publish the Wonderful Wallaby sweater pattern. Like all the Cottage Creation patterns, this one gives a lot of detail about how to negotiate the sticky bits in the pattern. The pattern was so fun to read, I couldn't wait to get to the yarn store to pick out the yarn.

Finding the yarn at Mary's Yarn Shop (my favorite Central Illinois LYS) was the fun part. Sarah isn't sure whether she's having a boy or girl, and she liked the idea of "jewel tones." The purple yarn really drew me from the shelf. The other colors fell into my shopping basket to complement the purple. I couldn't wait to get started.

But my results, so far are.... mixed. The pattern is fun to work, but my results look a little too close to something Aunt Mable would sell at a the church basement rummage sale. The yarn colors are fun, but the acrylic yarn is not really to my liking. It's soft and can be machine washed, but OH how I would prefer to knit with wool. I'm using Reynold's yarn, and it seems to unravel a bit if I try to adjust stitches along the way. The idea is to create a blanket made of patches of color, kind of like a patchwork quilt. I don't mind a "homespun" look, but I don't want it to look tacky, either.

As I've gone along, I've fussed a little with how best to pick up stitches for new squares have made themselves clear. I'm still not sure what the best technique is to cast off each square so that I don't make awkward looking knots in the middle of the blanket. All of this fudging is giving the blanket a really amateur look.

So, tonight I'm going to start over. We'll consider the word so far a sort of extended swatch. Last night, I found the thought of starting over a downer. Now, I'm looking forward to a fresh start. I think I can make the whole thing look a lot better, instead of just living with the little flaws that have cropped up along the way.

Whenever I get stuck with my knitting, whenever I reach that impossible point where I realize there's no choice but to rip all the way back, there's just one thing to do. And that's to stop knitting for the night. At the end of the day, I just can't face the thought of taking out my work. A day later, I can approach the project with a fresh eye, and ripping out seems like the most sensible way to go.
- posted by Laurie @ 6:16 PM |

 

That 70's Couch 
- posted by Laurie @ 4:11 PM |

 

Ode to a Brown Couch

You are worn and tired
But as reliable as an old shoe
The favorite Sunday afternoon nap place
A nest for reading on snowy days
The spot where all my knitting needles get lost
Nine feet long, how did we get you up the stairs?
A couch so big, Randy and I can both stretch out
Nestled against distant arm rests

Brown couch, you should be banished to the basement
You have all the glamour of a paper bag
Where you ever new?
Did you always look like a Good Will find?
From your first day, did you have a lumpy, worn look?
I've seen couches just like you abandoned along the road
Yet we could never give you up
Not even to the basement
I think it's time for a nap
- posted by Laurie @ 4:09 PM |

 
A Break in the Weather

Winter took a vacation this weekend, and Randy and I got out to enjoy some fresh air. We hiked around Magneson Park, which was once a rich guy's wooded playground. Now it's a gem of a state park.


See the waterfall below the bridge? That is the run off over the top of a man-made, cement damn. The rich guy had the damn carved to look like the limestone walls in the canyon.


The damn creates a small lake. A great trail snakes along the canyon below, and a second trail circles the top of the canyon. We hiked a good part of both trails. Very refreshing after spending the last two months indoors.

While we were hiking, everytime we came to an icy spot on the trail, we began talking about a movie we watched earlier in the week. The movie was Touching the Void. The movie is about two mountain climbers who run into trouble while tackling a mountain that has never been climbed before in a remote region of Peru. One hiker breaks his leg at 20,000 feet. While trying to make his way down the mountain with a broken leg, he falls 100 feet off a cliff into a deep cravass. The other hiker assumes his friend has plunged to his death.

Amazingly, the guy with the broken leg manages to climb out of the cravass, only to realize he is alone, miles from his basecamp, and still badly injured. The movie made any aches and pains I've felt while hiking seem like small change. It's a great movie--though very intense--and it convinced me I never to take up the hobby of alpine mountaineering. Luckily, Randy and I finished our winter hike without any blisters, twisted ankles, or other moral wounds.

- posted by Laurie @ 4:03 PM |

 
Randy surprised me this morning by putting on his new handknit sweater for work. I had this sneaking suspicion it might linger in the closet before he dared pull it out. But this morning when I got out of the shower, he already had it on, and looked pretty sharp too, if I can brag a little.

Anyhoo, when he got home from work, I asked if he got any ribbing from his coworkers for the sweater. He said, actually, when folks found out his wife had knit the sweater that they said, "Dude, that's so cool!" Just like that. Finally, a sweater for Randy that stands up to inspection.

Dude, that's so cool!
- posted by Laurie @ 7:09 PM |