Experimental Knititng

 I recently learned a whole new knitting stitch! I can purl!

Yes, this does mean I have only been knitting with one stitch for the last ten years.

For anyone reading this who actually knits, I will wait for you to stop laughing.

....


Anyway, I started experimenting with ribbing for hats.

I had some red yarn, but not enough to do a big project, so I thought I'd do a hat.

Part way through, I realized I probably didn't have enough to finish the hat, so I started doing stripes.

And then I was having fun with stripes, so I didn't want to stop...

Choclo loved his crazy hat!


So then Oob wanted one!

 But he wanted three colors!

So that was pretty fun, and actually very quick - it probably takes me two evenings to make a crazy hat.

I'm working on one for Leena now!

But I learned I could do more with purling: I did a scarf alternating two knits and two purls, and it had a lovely "popcorn" texture (the number of stitches was not divisible by four or it would have come out "ribbed").

What else could I do?

The colors are really much darker than this

Was it possible to do vertical stripes? Alternating knits and purls gives you "ribs" that are like vertical stripes.

Could I do them in different colors?

Wow!  It came out plaid!

I showed it to my FIL and my friend Bill and they thought I had knitted a Black Watch Tartan scarf!








So that's been fun, although I did the scarf very long and wide, so it took about a month.

I was trying to use up some of my donated yarn stash.  It's mostly normal weight yarn, and I like to knit with chunkier yarns, so I usually use three or four strands when I use it.

With this scarf, each color was three strands, so I was knitting off of six skeins.  That  got a bit unwieldy.  I had planned to knit to the end of the skeins, but, near the end, the I was getting everything tangled and the scarf was getting both long and a little heavy, so I stopped!

A successful experiment!

Seven Quick Takes: Random Hippos, Eyeballs, Dinos and Whatnot

1. I finished the last of the (separate) chemistry classes!  I still have a combined class/party, but the actual lessons are done.

I have to say, I loved having a boys' class and a girls' class.

But.  Stretching it out over twice as much time exceeded my attention span.  Sad but true. But I still like chemistry, and I really enjoyed all the kids!

And they liked it too.  You can tell because they made their own T shirts.



2. In other news, we lapped the seasons.

Our snow drops, the first of the spring flowers, are blooming.

And so are our camellias, the last of the fall flowers.



The weather has been crazy- we had highs in the 70s Wednesday, and in the low 30s  Thursday!



3. And speaking of crazy...  I'd like to know who put the googly eyes on the pruning shears.

And the door knobs.


And my computer.

4.  In other, other news, Choclo has taken up hippo wrestling. 


Everyone should have a hobby.

 5. In practically the best news ever, it's my dad's birthday on Saturday and we (Mxyl, Klenda, and I) are going up to see him!!!!







6. Did you know that this is a thing? I was blown away!




7. And I'll leave you with a bit of helpful (hopefully not relevant to you) art from Klenda:

Have a great weekend, more fun with Kelly!

Mummies

Choclo and Oob asked if they could be wrapped up like mummies.

Sure!  I was setting up one of the last Chemistry classes, so I asked Klenda to wrap.

She actually does a much neater job than I do!


It turned out they only wanted one mummy because the other one was going to be a professor, lecturing on mummies. 

Why, yes, we do watch a lot of documentaries, why do you ask?

The professor explained that this 5000 year old mummy was very special because it had not had it's brain removed.

Suddenly, to the horror of the gathered crowd, the mummy began to move!

Fortunately, it turned out that the mummy just wanted a hug from his mummy!

Wordless Wednesday: Theodore Roosevelt Island

Poem of the Week: Love Among the Ruins

Love among the Ruins

By Robert Browning

Where the quiet-coloured end of evening smiles,

Miles and miles

On the solitary pastures where our sheep

Half-asleep

Tinkle homeward thro' the twilight, stray or stop

As they crop—

Was the site once of a city great and gay,

(So they say)

Of our country's very capital, its prince

Ages since

Held his court in, gathered councils, wielding far

Peace or war.

Now the country does not even boast a tree,

As you see,

To distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills

From the hills

Intersect and give a name to, (else they run

Into one)

Where the domed and daring palace shot its spires

Up like fires

O'er the hundred-gated circuit of a wall

Bounding all

Made of marble, men might march on nor be prest

Twelve abreast.

And such plenty and perfection, see, of grass

Never was!

Such a carpet as, this summer-time, o'er-spreads

And embeds

Every vestige of the city, guessed alone,

Stock or stone—

Where a multitude of men breathed joy and woe

Long ago;

Lust of glory pricked their hearts up, dread of shame

Struck them tame;

And that glory and that shame alike, the gold

Bought and sold.

Now—the single little turret that remains

On the plains,

By the caper overrooted, by the gourd

Overscored,

While the patching houseleek's head of blossom winks

Through the chinks—

Marks the basement whence a tower in ancient time

Sprang sublime,

And a burning ring, all round, the chariots traced

As they raced,

And the monarch and his minions and his dames

Viewed the games.

And I know, while thus the quiet-coloured eve

Smiles to leave

To their folding, all our many-tinkling fleece

In such peace,

And the slopes and rills in undistinguished grey

Melt away—

That a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair

Waits me there

In the turret whence the charioteers caught soul

For the goal,

When the king looked, where she looks now, breathless, dumb

Till I come.

But he looked upon the city, every side,

Far and wide,

All the mountains topped with temples, all the glades'

Colonnades,

All the causeys, bridges, aqueducts,—and then

All the men!

When I do come, she will speak not, she will stand,

Either hand

On my shoulder, give her eyes the first embrace

Of my face,

Ere we rush, ere we extinguish sight and speech

Each on each.

In one year they sent a million fighters forth

South and North,

And they built their gods a brazen pillar high

As the sky

Yet reserved a thousand chariots in full force—

Gold, of course.

O heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns!

Earth's returns

For whole centuries of folly, noise and sin!

Shut them in,

With their triumphs and their glories and the rest!

Love is best.

HT: PoetryFoundation

Watch It

Do you ever feel like you're being watched?

I ask because I've noticed some odd things popping up around the house.

 Things that look like security cameras, sometimes with accompanying boxes filled with wires and electronics.

I'm sure it's just my imagination.

Co-conspirators

Poem of the Week: The Darkling Thrush

The Darkling Thrush

By Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate

      When Frost was spectre-grey,

And Winter's dregs made desolate

      The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

      Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

      Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be

      The Century's corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

      The wind his death-lament.

The ancient pulse of germ and birth

      Was shrunken hard and dry,

And every spirit upon earth

      Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among

      The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

      Of joy illimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

      In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

      Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings

      Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestrial things

      Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

      His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

      And I was unaware.

HT Poetry Foundation

This has to be my favorite thing I've ever read by Hardy.  Usually I find him unbearably nihilistic, but this poem, with it's openness to hope, is just lovely!  I think it's an interesting companion to the Winter Bluejay poem.

Wordless Wednesday: Gingerbread Demolition

Happy 50th Anniversary!

To my Mom and Dad!

Thank you for your beautiful example of marriage as a relationship of faithful love and service, serving God, each other, and everyone you meet!

Happy Birthday, Klenda!

 Klenda is 18!  She's officially an adult!

This is super special to me because she nearly died as a baby.  Her life was saved with major surgery, but we were only given a 5% percent chance of  being completely  physically normal- and she hit that 5%!

Actually, she may have overshot the mark a bit!

And here she is, this bright, lovely, talented young woman who brings such joy to our lives!






I imagine turning 18 was pretty special to her, too, so we had a party with her friends

 And a party with extended family.





And a party with "just" the 8 of us!



In which she was given hats, obviously.

18 Great Things About Klenda

1. She looks great in hats.
2. She can do Parkour.
3. She loves tea.
3. She is an amazing artist and writer!
4. She makes a killer chocolate buttercream pie.
5. She helps out without being asked.
5. She's a thoughtful and loving daughter.
6. She's a super supportive sister.
7. She brings me tea!
8. She loves to go to Adoration.
8. She's fluent in Bionicle and Transformers!
9. She draws amazing pictures on napkins and post-it notes.
10. She's a loyal friend.
11. She's a Eucharistic Minister.
11. She can speak in iambic pentameter.
12. She has a beautiful singing voice.
13. She's the BCC's resident artist.
13. She can play piano, recorder, and kazoo.
14. She loves to try new things.
15. She sometimes runs in slow motion so I can pass her.
16. She's an amateur nutritionist.
16. She's a deadly punster.
17. She loves to cook and bake.
18. She notices when someone is down and cheers them up.