Old Things, Tiny Seeds

I've been giving a lot of thought to quality of life of late.

My conclusion on this topic is that I have rather an excellent life. I have the luxury of being able to afford a nice apartment in a nice part of town and even though it's not very big, it is a vast improvement over the matchbox that Tim and I had been living in previously. I have a car that is, more or less, in good repair. Within reason, I can afford my hobbies and I have some free time to pursue interests outside of my mostly-adequately paying job.

Now, there are some luxuries that are simply out of my reach: travel (for non-work-related purposes), specialty tools (I'm looking at you, spinning wheels), a meaningful amount in my savings account (well, I'm working on it, but it's slow-going), and God forbid anything ever happens to my car-- I am completely up a creek in that regard.

I have been thinking on the impossibility of owning a home in the foreseeable future with a twinge of sadness. In some regards, this hardly matters-- but the idea of having one's own home is just so compelling. No one could tell me that I couldn't paint the walls teal, for example, and I could live in a house with walls that are all different shades of teal.

Not that I necessary long for a teal-walled house, but you get the idea.

So I have been working on contenting myself with the things that I do have and ridding myself of those things that make me less than happy.

Which bring me to this:

I frogged my Hanging Leaves shawl. That last picture I showed you all of it was about as far as it ever went, give or take a few rows. Every row was profoundly boring agony and I've just no time or inclination for such a thing.

Instead, I cast on a Drift Shawl with the yarn I brought back from Montana. It's a gorgeous thing so far and although I have no doubt that I will have to block the ever-living heck out of it to get it to tolerable dimensions, I'm looking forward to wearing it.

The yarn is lovely, though it has some vegetable matter running through it and it appears to be rubbing some orange-red dye off on my hands and the inside of my project bag. I suppose as it is dyed with natural plant dyes and is, in fact, organic wool that I shouldn't be too worried about it, despite how disconcerting I find the leeching pigment.

This shawl will require a long soak once it's off the needles and probably a bit of a wash to rinse out the excess dye.

In the arena of "new things that are making me happy", Tim and I are bringing new, chlorophyll-based life into the world. Behold!

Tiny baby seed starts! With the help of a few friends of ours,  we're starting a little vegetable and herb garden. It's quite exciting and given the amount of produce we go through, while it likely won't defray our cost of living, it'll certainly supplement the all important tasty-factor of our meals.

So that's what I've got-- getting rid of old things that I have not the mental fortitude to keep schlepping around with me and emphasizing those things that are good and best.

Also, tiny, baby vegetables. So there's that.

Return to the Land of the Living

Hello, Dear Readers.

It's been a while.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I was in Billings, Montana for about a week on a work trip. It was so-very thrilling and did a lot to increase the already formidable size of my sleep deficit. Nevertheless, as I find is often the case, I did meet some truly awesome folks in my time away. I feel a pang of sadness when I think about the fact that I very likely won't see them in person anymore. Sure, we'll correspond through email and we'll probably speak on the phone, but barring a wholly unforeseen event, I won't ever be in their physical presence again.

It's a shame, too; Billings has some pretty rad people living in it.

In an exceedingly rare, almost unheard-of event, I got a hold of a car during my lunch break and was able to check out the local yarn store scene. I had the pleasure of visiting Wild Purls and I did some compulsory yarn shopping. Now, to be fair, I did need some yarn to finish another strip of my 64 Crayon Blanket. Of course I ran out some fifteen rows from the end! Apart from the necessary purchase, however, I did pick up some gorgeous Montana-made yarn. Just look at it-- it's gorgeous:

I was tickled pink by the lack of sales tax in Montana. You see, I have this habit of rounding up tax to absurd decimal places just to make sure I never underestimate the total cost of a purchase. In Montana, however, this is wholly unnecessary. You should have seen me at the Dollar Store-- I was going nuts because everything literally cost one dollar. No weird tax tacking on some seven- or eight-odd cents. Beautiful, round numbers instead.

So yeah, I may have compensated by buying more yarn than strictly necessary but it was a beautiful yarn store so I regret nothing. I am sad to report that I never made it out to another local store I was told was a must-see, Purl Yarn Boutique. By the look of their website, I missed another truly awesome shop.

All and all, there was very little time for knitting, however. Turns out, working seventeen hours a day really puts a damper on free-time activities (did I mention my outrageous sleep deficit?).

What time I did have to myself was spent in the pursuit of a decent meal (which was often a frozen yakisoba and a lackluster bowl of fruit) and then lying motionless on the bed, watching Marilyn Monroe movies.

I finally got around to watching Some Like It Hot which is arguably the funniest film I've seen in a good long while. The was followed up by episodically re-watching The Seven Year Itch-- another excellently amusing film.

By the time I made it home, harried from almost being late to the airport, I found myself laid up with a cold (I'm sorry, fellow airline passengers, I tried to keep my germs to myself). I had planned on taking a three-day weekend upon my return home but I hadn't expected the circumstances to be quite so feverish. Mostly, I ended up lying around unmoving, hopped up on Dayquil, snoozing and playing with some neat language-learning applications online (I'm looking at you, Memrise and Duolingo).

I have been working on my Hanging Leaves shawl (about which I am still somewhat ambivalent), but it's hard to see progress when one is working in laceweight. My boyfriend saw what I was working on and seemed almost started at it: "That's the smallest thing I've ever seen you work on." And, frankly, he's right. I usually make it a point not to work on laceweight for the very reason that I find it so discouraging. Work ten rows-- progress--what progress?

It's soft, at least.

I'm pleased to be back home. Home to bed and boyfriend and cat and familiar. At least this cold had the courtesy to kick in as I was on my way home, rather than afflicting me in a strange hotel room.

So here I am again, easing myself back into normal routines and dutifully reporting them to you, dear reader.

It's good to be back.

Infidelity and Baby Carrots

(Preface: There are no pictures in this post. I am sorry. I hope to add some later when not in such a rough technological patch [read: Billings, Montana].)

So I'm usually a strictly monogamous knitter.

In the early days of my knitting, I would start a project, either finish it or frog it, and then move on.

Then I discovered Ravelry. Now, let me preface the remainder of this blog post by saying that Ravelry, in so many ways, has improved my quality of life. That may sound a facetious, but nothing could be more honest. Ravelers and their kindness have inextricably shaped me as a crafter as well as a person. I doubt that could be said of many other websites.

Now, with that said, Ravelry has also made it much more difficult to be satisfied with any single project. As soon as I cast on one project, no matter how very excited I am about it, I invariably see something else that I just can't wait to start. Normally, I'm strong. Normally, I use that excitement to dangle a carrot for myself, so to speak. And, generally, it works.

I make the occasional concession to myself during the holidays or if I really, really can't stand the project I am currently working on, but these exceptions are few and far between.

Of late, however, the exceptions have slowly begun to multiply.

Currently, I have a stripe for my 64 Crayons Blanket in progress (why is ribbing just so tedious to knit?), I just cast on a Hanging Leaves scarf and, perhaps, the biggest distraction of all: I have purchased a circular knitting machine.

It's glorious, complicated, infuriating, and a complete time-sink. I mean this all in the most affectionate of ways, but until I become a little more competent with this machinery, the time I spend on it isn't at all productive in the end-product sense. Fluency will come and with it socks and scarves and leg warmers and all manner of tube-based knits. Until then, little progress is made on my other projects.

And I suppose that that's the way it goes.

The scarf/shawl I've started is actually pretty interesting. I've made some changes to it, the most major of which is to knit it in a slip woven stitch pattern rather than in plain stockinette. Mostly, I  just can't abide shawls curling on me when I'm trying to look fabulous while wearing them. Instead, I have substituted the Odd Slip Stitch pattern from the incomparable Crow Waltz Shawl (of which I have made three to date).

At present, I'm feeling a little guilty for not having ideal and pretty pictures to show, of all the fabulous progress of posts past, but at least I have been doing something with my time.

Currently, I am on yet another business trip in scenic Billings, Montana. I haven't been here long enough to make an assessment, but I do have this to say: the combination of staying in a hotel, not having a car, and being vegan is not an easy one.

I try to do reconnaissance ahead of time to make plans in terms of my meals, but I admit that I was at a loss when it came to Billings. Online resources are only as soon as the information supplied to them, I suppose, and I'm sure there's more here than the meager list I've heretofore compiled... but at present, the list of places I can procure vegan food within walking distance of my hotel is: Costco.

So I schlepped myself over to Costco on this mercifully warm evening, shopped, and then hauled back around 35 pounds of mostly produce and hummus. I'll be here for a week, after all, and I am a known menace to baby carrots... good thing I bought 5 pounds of them, then.

Being a knitting vegan abroad is a challenge, certainly, but it's still rather a bit of fun, even if my hands are still slightly numb from ferrying my purchases the half-mile or so back to my room.