a simple yarn

If (Time+Energy) = 0, then use Money…If (Money) = 0, then use (Time+Energy)

It was not long after our wedding that my mother-in-law first shared this universal truth—

Every individual has three commodities: money, energy and time; and most everything we do will be a trade-off to balance these three resources.

Simply put, when I don’t have time (or energy) to bake things from scratch, I have to use my money to purchase those items at the supermarket.  And when I don’t have the money to buy a certain item from the shop, then I will either a) do without or b) use my other two resources, time and energy, to create it.

Back then, we were young…and idealistic…and poor.
Now, we are older…a little more realistic…and live in an expensive city where we still have to watch our pennies.  So, Craft On Thursday means more practical pursuits these days.

Now, in our little cottage is a sunroom.
And in that sunroom is a futon.

And on that futon is a cushion.
And that cushion is coverless.
Which makes that cushion boring.

So, not having the money to dash out and buy cushion covers, it then becomes a matter of using my other commodities today.

A bit of fabric squirreled away for such an occasion.

Some recycled buttons.

A scrap of bias tape.

Some simply sewn (relatively) straight lines and here, the finished product.

Since I had more time after making just one, why not use a little more energy to zizz up some other dull coverless-cushions?

Sad partings are natural moments in life.

Standing there.
Waiting expectantly.
Hoping there was another way.
Other than having to endure this farewell.
A final send off.
A knot in the stomach.
A tear in the eye.
Time to say good-bye.

Liesl has gone the way of other hopeful patterns that were not meant to be.
To the frog pond.
Starting sleeves without the right tools set me on a path from which I couldn’t return to the land of successful outcomes.
Knit.
Rip.
Re-knit.
Rip again.
Ah, progress!
Blast!
Rip.
One more try.
Nope, can’t get it right.

There are times to be tenacious.
There are times to admit defeat.
I was tenacious in not letting a simple little pattern get the better of me.
But I have to admit defeat.
And lay this one to rest.
Even the frogging didn’t go smoothly.
A bit of salt in the wound.

To recover some self-respect, the yarn has immediately taken on a second life as a February Lady Sweater, with hopes of a better outcome ahead.

Because sometimes black and white bring out the colour in a project.

I know we haven’t lived in the cottage very long, but I was tired of waking up to this view.

Blank.
Boring.
Taking advantage of a rainy afternoon, I took a few of these…

…using a bit of this…

…spread across the dining room table.

‘Where’s the colour?’ asked the Kiddies.
‘There isn’t any,’ I replied.
‘You mean you did this on purpose?’ they responded.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘Why on earth don’t you want colour?’ they demanded.
‘Because sometimes the colour of a story is in its subject, not on the paper,’ I replied.

Now, each morning I wake up to this colourfully black and white tale.

Everybody takes off in August, don’t they?

Warning:  Momentary Knitting Diversion Ahead
In the spirit of ‘miracles do happen,’ I have completed a knitting project.

…a sock…
…complete with cables…

…for my mobile phone.

And that, as they say, is that.
The sum total of completed projects for the summer.

‘Liesl-In-Progress’ is now ‘Liesl-In-Regress’—a testimony to not having the right equipment and trying to rig a make-shift solution.  Even Husband-Will acknowledges that every artist needs the proper tool for her craft.  After wrestling a number of stretched, dropped and otherwise mangled stitches, and vocalising a string of grumbles with a few choice epithets, I’m off to the LYS for a better solution.  Such a simple and pleasing pattern shouldn’t take this long, but the [*knit x sts, rip same amount of sts, repeat from *]  is rather indicative of how life is going at the moment.

All of which reminds me that it’s August.
The ending of summer.
And I am tired.
The creative juices have ebbed, leaving a parched and empty palette.
So, a holiday is in order.
To recharge my creative batteries.
Anticipating the cool breeze of autumn.
Blowing in crisp new ideas.
With fresh photos.
A new start.
After the hols.

Forget Obama.
Forget McCain.
This is the force we should worry will take absolute control in America…

Postscript:
Free wheeling post brought to you by the new-to-me-first-generation-hand-me-down iPhone.

…wherein we try ANOTHER recipe from the otherwise pristine cookbook.

Feeling heady from the lemonade success, we immediately dive into another new Tessa recipe.

Meringue with Strawberries and Chocolate

Yep, I fear a monster has been unleashed…

…and I buy cookbooks.

Warning,  Confession to Continue—
Not to cook from.
Just to look at.
I am lured by the pretty pictures.
I promise myself I will use the recipes.
But that means I will have to open the books…with food around.
And that might make them dirty.
And smudged.
And they wouldn’t be pretty anymore.
And I’d be sad.
Sigh.

Here’s a favourite…to look at, that is…and to give as gifts.  Trying to overcome my addiction, I’ve forced myself to open it up.

Tasty (looking) recipes geared nicely toward children with options to spice it up for adults.  I do find that Tessa’s grouping of recipes based upon colour intriguing and ingenious, but a bit difficult for finding a particular recipe.  Ah well, that’s what an index is for, right?

Starting simply, Daughter-Kate and I attempt to beat the summer heat with a bit of lemonade.

I love the idea of dissolving the caster (superfine) sugar in water and briefly boiling the lemon rind for a snazzy flavour and wonderfully coloured syrup.

Let cool and add chilled sparkling water.

And there you have a summer favourite.
Hang on, this tastes like Sprite or 7-Up!

Attention:  Foggy Memory Flashback Ahead—
Our first days in Dublin were a whirlwind of new experiences.  Even the simplest things were a challenge to do.  Like ordering drinks.  Our first pub outing with the Kiddies found us ordering lemonade, expecting a still-water-lemon drink as we were used to in the US.  What we got was Sprite.   What?  We quickly learned that European Translation No. 1, Lemonade = Sprite.

So, a great homemade treat for the Kiddies.  Next time, Orange Fizzy.

Postscript Confession—
Thanks to Cornflower, I now have another cookbook on my wish list!

‘Well,’ said I, to no one in particular, ‘its not going to get done just by sitting.’
‘And it’s not,’ I heard myself agree, ‘going to get any cooler, by wishin’ it so.’

Convinced this was no worse than going to the gym…oh wait, I hate going to the gym…I hauled myself outside into the relentless sunshine and its constant companion, the oppressively high humidity.

Impersonating a weaver on the odd occasion, I can forgive you for thinking this is an elaborate, oversized warp. But no, with the advent of home ownership comes the opportunity for creating a veg patch. Yes, container gardening was an option during those house-rental years, but I’m rubbish at it. Pots need watering. I forget to water pots. It’s a sad case of neglect for houseplants too. Good thing the kids keep the dog watered or the SPCA’d be knocking at my door. And we don’t want that, do we?

Since our ‘house-move-and-ensuing-chaos’ occurred during the vital ‘get-stuff-into-the-ground’ phase, we have to wait until next year for the actual ‘veg’ part of the veg patch. But this year it’s all about getting the soil ready. Long ago, a previous owner had a lovely vegetable garden—but time and neglect have taken over, so it’s back to the beginning…killing the grass.

Now, what was I thinking?
Is this me tapping into my Inner-Ma-Ingalls?
Is this me being green?
Is this crazy?
What possessed me to do this without any power equipment?
Ack!
Thankfully recent rains softened the soil.
‘How wise to wait!’ you might say.
‘Dumb luck,’ I reply.

After using the hand-edger to cut the templates, it’s a simple rock-weighted-rubbish-bag method of killing off the grass. Might as well use the Virginia heat and sunshine to my advantage, eh? Sure, there are easier ways. Of course there are quicker ways. But I’m feelin’ pretty good about the synergy of getting an all-body workout and doing this without chemicals or petrol powered machinery.

So, two more squares to cut and cover, then it’s the waiting game for me.
Autumn will bring the next backbreaker synergistic opportunity…hand tilling.

So, while the rest of the world queues up for the new iPhone, I am marveling at another little product for Mac users…and it’s free!

I am horrible at keeping up with the latest software.
That is what my husband is for.
Tuned in and wired up, that’s what he is.
Every now and again something will catch his eye that I might like.
But this sat in my email for so long, he forgot he had suggested it.

Books.
For highly compulsive book owners, like me.
Sure, Ravelry has a place to catalog knitting books, but what about all the other delicious works on my shelf?
This freeware allows Mac users to create a library of books. For me, the lists reflect categories like: cookbooks, craft books, knitting books, self-sufficiency books, L.M. Montgomery books, Kate Douglas Wiggin books, etc.

Sure, other software does that, but here’s the cool part…

See the field for ISBN numbers?

You can click the little camera icon and up comes iSight, a bar code scanner. Yep, the idea is that you can hold the book up to the camera on your MacBook and it will read the ISBN bar code. Click the ‘Quick Fill’ button and all the details about the book will fill in…even a copy of the cover!

How absolutely-time-savingly-cool is that?!?

Now, realistically, I had some difficulty getting the iSight to work each time, especially on glossy books covers…which most of my knitting books seem to have. But, alternatively, you can type in the ISBN, click ‘Quick Fill,’ and presto, it will do the same.

Caveat Ahead:
The program will only fill in the book details if they are on record at Amazon or ISBNdb.com, but the good news is that there are other sources for the Quick Fill feature that are downloadable. Antique books are still catalogued the good ol’-fashioned way, though, typing each line. Sigh.

I must say, though, this made quick work of sorting through many stacks of books!
It’s mesmerizing.
And habit-forming.
It elicits squeals of delight when the correct information magically appears.
Ack! Must…stop…family…needs…dinner.

Ah sure, just one more entry…

…seems to be teal, I think.

Models: ‘Liesl-In-Progress’ and the ‘Most-Affordable-Closest-Thing-To-A-London-Taxi-I-Can-Find-To-Drive-In-The-US’.

Warning: Grab a coffee and a danish…it’s a saga.

I have to pay taxes and therefore have interacted with the US government.
I have two adopted children and therefore have dealt with the Russian government.
I have lived in Ireland for a number of years and therefore have worked with the Irish government.
None of this prepared me for the local SPCA.

Part of our Adjusting-To-America-Plan included finally granting our eleven-year-old daughter’s deepest desire to have a family dog. I must say…

Diversion Ahead:
Apologies, if you have worked, are working, or will ever work for the SPCA.

…this has been one of the more challenging agencies to negotiate with—excepting perhaps the Irish Bureau of Immigration of course. After completing the rather lengthy application, the call came and went something like this…

SPCA: ‘We reviewed your application and the committee has decided to deny your request.’
Me: ‘Ehm. Uhm. Wha’?’
SPCA: We are not allowing you to adopt the dog.’
Me: ‘Er, why not?’
SPCA: ‘Because it will not be primarily an indoor dog.’
Me: ‘And the problem with that is…?’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: ‘But we have a lovely garden with loads of space to run free and abundant shade.’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: ‘But we have a lovely workshop, with ceiling fan, a veritable palace in doggy terms.’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’

Clearly I was getting nowhere. Time to change tactics. Less pleading. More relational. Do it like the Irish would.

Me: ‘Ah sure, I’m a stay at home mum and will be around quite a bit—the dog and I’ll be great pals.’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: ‘I am an avid gardener and will be outdoors more than indoors.’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: ‘Our wee kids, who’ve been anticipating this moment for years, will be devastated.’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’

What I forgot was that this isn’t Ireland anymore, Dorothy, and the relational approach doesn’t necessarily work when policies and rules and regulations are in force. Time to get back to my communications degree mindset and dredge up some good argumentation and debating techniques.

Me: ‘Right, so if I were a double-income-no-kids-at-work-for-8-or-more-hours-a-day-while-the-dog-remains-in-a-crate-type family, there’d be no problem?’
SPCA: Silence…then, ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: ‘So pointing out technically that the dog will be indoors in this lovely workshop-yet-to-be-studio-cum-guestroom is not sufficient?’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: My ADOPTED children do not have a television, which goes against societal norms. Does that prevent them from having a nurturing environment?’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: ‘What about this is not providing a safe and secure environment for the dog?’
SPCA: ‘We only adopt to people who will keep the dog indoors.’
Me: ‘Can I appeal the decision?’

Phase Two, The Appeal, then found me answering what seemed like an endless barrage of questions, including…

SPCA: ‘It’s warm now, but what plans for heating in winter do you have?’
Me: ‘Weeeellll, it’s a Husky mix, wouldn’t it like the cool weather? What are winters like in Virginia? I doubt you’d be wanting me to put in a kerosene-sure-to-catch-the-place-on-fire-heater.’
SPCA: ‘We’d like for you to email us photos of the place where the dog will reside and your garden…as many photos as you can.’
Me: Sigh.

I’m sure the words ‘gob-smacked,’ ‘blimey,’ ‘crikey’ and ‘bugger’ escaped my lips at various points during the conversation(s). But at the end of the day… meet Rocket, soon to be the newest member of our family.

Epilogue-So-I-Don’t-Get-Sued-Cuz-I’m-Living-In-America Disclaimer:
Right, so the SPCA had a few more words to say than what’s represented here, but for the purpose of story-telling, the gist of the story remains. I must say that I am an advocate of what animal shelters represent and do not endorse cruelty to animals in any sense. The point of this cautionary tale is that our situation didn’t fit into a tick-the-box category and our application was therefore in danger of being jettisoned because we had other ideas of what a safe, secure and nurturing environment could be for a dog. Only due to the tenacity of one SPCA worker gave our story its happy ending.

Trifecta—‘Noun: a run of three wins or grand events, Origin:1970s from tri+perfecta’ —Oxford American Dictionary

Grand Event No. 1

Where there is life, there is hope.
It would appear that I haven’t assassinated the grape vine.
Might call for a bit of the bubbly…from the shop, not homemade…yet.
Need to begin fumigation with fungicide to prevent the little black rot bugger from returning.

Grand Event No. 2

Here is our work-in-progress.
The cottage, circa 1945.
Much still to be done to spruce it up but, as I remind myself, we’ve been here for approximately one month.
For friends across the sea, that flowering tree on the left is a crape myrtle.
Think I’d have bought the house for that alone.
Okay, not really, but it presents a very cheery face to passersby.

Grand Event No. 3

Today is Tuesday.
Today is my first visit to the local Farmer’s Market.
Gonna clear out the car boot with great expectations for good finds…