Fricknits

Hey There, Gorgeous

I've been away from the Internet since Tuesday.  School and all its attendant meetings and report cards and classroom clean-ups was over at 4:00 pm and, by some cruel twist of fate, our neighbors decided to move their wireless hub or forgo wireless for the summer or some such nonsense, because there is currently no 'Net Chez Frick.  It took a few deep breaths, but then I realized that this could be a good thing.  While I'm NOT obsessively checking your Flickr streams and my Ravelry friend activity, I can, say, potty train my son.  Finally de-clutter the dining room table.  Learn to quilt (!)  And make good on the promise I've made to Ms. Kingsolver to become part of the solution.  To that end, I've planted three varieties of heirloom tomatoes in the past three days (Cherokee Purple, Hillbilly, and Green Zebra) and brought home a whopping haul from the farmer's market on Friday:

It's nice to know you're a part of a movement.  A real, honest-to-gosh change taking place in our culture (taking the optimist's view here).  Like this blogging/photo/knitting/crafting space we've created for ourselves on the Internet.  People talk about friendship and community and getting back to the roots of handcraft when they reference blogging as a movement, but there's something else about this craft movement that I think is really special and I haven't seen folks talking about, and that's beauty.  Redefining beauty.  Taking beauty BACK from the magazines and the movies and the Botox parties and the red carpet.  Taking it back into our own hands.  Have you noticed how we're doing that?

First of all, there's the power inherent in having the ability to make beautiful things with one's own hands.  As I've grown as a knitter, I've honed my aesthetic sense.  Every pretty, flirty skein that winks at me from the shelf doesn't automatically end up in the basket.  I'm choosier about colors in some ways, bolder about them in others.  I'm less likely to second-guess my gut when it comes to style.  Knitting has both expanded and refined what I think of as beautiful because it's put the creation part into my hands.

 

 

Lately, though, maybe because of all that stuff absence does to your heart, I've been thinking more about how being a part of this community has reached all the way back into my pre-adolescent, Barbie-torturing, running-wild-in-the-woods childhood and revived my sense of what makes a truly beautiful female.  Back then, I thought my mom was the most gorgeous woman alive.  Consciously or not, I thought this way about my friends, too.  Scraped kness, twigs in pigtails, crooked noses, dirty feet- it didn't matter.  At the end of the day, I still wanted to be rolled up in a sleeping bag with them, just staring at each other's faces and giggling.  And I thought I was a pretty hot mama, too.  Lip synching to Sheena Easton with the hairbrush and the bottom of my t-shirt pulled through the neck, insta-kini style? You know you did it, and you know you were thinking, "I am hawt."  Right?  Then came seventh grade.

That's what I love about Project 365.  Folks will tell you it's narcisistic, but I don't buy that.  How many of us are really initially comfortable with putting our faces out there, day after day?  It's taken me almost two years to show mine on this blog.  But all over Flickr you can find these amazing photographs of beautiful women whose stories and knitting you know.  And if you look at them enough, you start to think, "Where's my sleeping bag?  My hairbrush?  My Sheena Easton tape?"  Screw mass media's idea of what beautiful is.  I mean, Rolling Stone's got nothing on Carrie.  Want to jump-start your workout?  Forget Shape- check out Brenda for inspiration.  Want to read a great parenting story?  Move over, Angelina, Jen, Madonna, JLo.  Diana's got yer heartstrings right here.  Jen Aniston's shag is SO out.  Get the Ashley.  Betcha haven't wanted Jell-O this much since you were five.  (Erin can sell me just about anything.)  Pigtails!  Oh, and Pam?  Anthropologie called.  They want their mojo back.

Blogging has spolied me for the slick mass media version of beauty.  Kind of makes me want to get all the girls I teach a Typepad account.

The photos in this post are of my best friend Adrianna.  She's a farmer and an artist and a mother and one of the most gentle, graceful, beautiful people I know.  I wouldn't trade her as a model for anyone.  In fact, she looked so beautiful in my Sheltland Triangle that I gave it to her on the spot.  That's another thing blogging has taught me.  Generosity.  But that's for another post.

Not If I See You First

It was two years ago that I started this blog- right after Maryland Sheep and Wool '06.  Boy, has a lot happened since then.

Biscuit grew up.

Fricklet appeared on the scene.

I edited an edition of Yarnival, hosted some contests, won some contests, joined Flickr, joined Ravelry, knit a whole mess of stuff, learned some basic crochet, fended off the urge to spin (though a certain someone who shall remain nameless has designated herself my spinny godmother/pusher), ran Ravelraiser ($71,000!  $71,000!!), opened an Etsy shop...what am I missing?

Oh, yes- I've made SO many friends...who have never actually seen me in person.

(Gloria cowl in Knittery Sock yarn won in one of the aforementioned contests from Nora Raveled here.)

I think I could get away without being recognized at MDSW pretty easily.  And it's tempting.  After all, in person I'm way awkward and nervous and dorky.  I've only ever shown my face once or twice around here, and you'd have to dig to find those posts.  But my cover's gonna totally be blown because El Biscuit-o is going to be my escort, and he's pretty hard to disguise (though a tiny mustache would be AWESOME, no?).   So I'll see you there!  And the world will finally know the truth-

I do, in fact, have a forehead.

PS- New set is up in the shop, and it's my favorite so far!  Take a peek:  Treat Yourself.

Have It Your Way

I ate not one, but three hamburgers while in New York City.  Three.  But only one was "the" hamburger, and I thank my Yoda for showing me the way.  I didn't eat mine with a fabulous knitter, but Mr. Frick was there, and so was our friend Jon, and the Kentucky Derby was on the telly and the pickles were so crisp and the mustard was spicy.  I'd trade a hank or two of Koigu to be back there, I really would.  Speaking of which:

Here's the Purl haul!  I spent quite a bit of time squeezing my way around and around the center table before ducking into Once Upon a Tart next door for some sugary refreshment, but I stuck to my list.  Actually, I showed remarkable restraint and even cut a few items.  The brown and orange Koigu is for socks, and perhaps the edging on another BSJ (yes, my fourth).  The rust-orange Koigu Kersti (a much deeper color than pictured) is for a Placket Neck Pullover for the Fricklet. I took some photos for you, and here's a hint: I asked first.  They really appreciate that at Purl.

That last photo is of my favorite Purl feature- the touchy-feely table.  Unfortunately, I never made it to School Products, as wedding festivities kept us superbusy.  No yak, no camel for me.  But I guess that's okay, as Ravelry's got me cataloguing the stash, and I'm finally having to come face to face with the lunacy of my yarn habit.  You can check out a mere fraction of it in my Flickr set, but much more is to come, as my Mother's Day request was time to photograph, catalog, and re-organize the Beast.  So check back on Monday for a real eye-opener.  (For those of you still awaiting a Ravelry invite, I strongly suggest that you get a leg up by photographing the stash and uploading it all to Flickr, plus eating, sleeping, seeing that new movie, and calling your mother/grandma/Great Aunt Tillie.  Because once you start with the Ravelry, well, there's really nothing else getting done.)

What else did I do in NYC?

These are from the Sugar Sweet Sunshine bakery.  I understand there are some strong opinions out there regarding the best cupcakery in NYC.  This is a debate I could really get into, I tell you.

Still with me?  I have one last bit of Eye Candy for you.  Below is a photo of a few of the gorgeous gents who shared a minivan with me this past weekend.  As it is my bloggiversary today, let's have a little contest, shall we?  From left to right we have Mr. W, Mr. B, Mr. E, Mr. T, and Mr. C.

Leave a comment telling which of these gentlemen:

1.  Asked me to teach him to knit (and requested I make him an adult version of my WIP).

2.  Was, within 20 minutes of our arrival, kissed on the cheek in Tompkins Square Park by this man.  And lives to tell the tale.

Hint:  The knitter is not the kiss recipient, though some pointy sticks may have come in handy for him.  And a Purell wipe. 

Your prize will be perfection itself- a marriage of my stash and your personal tastes.  The stash is wide, and deep, and can accomodate just about any request.  Are you a Dijon girl?  Bread and butter pickles?  Avocado?  Here at Fricknits, you really can have it your way! 

Having this blog has really changed my life- given me reasons to write more consistently, a community of friends, and constant inspiration.  Thank you for being with me through this year.

Our Dirty Little Secret

Has this happened to you?  You're trying to explain to a non-blogger (much less a non-knitter) where you got your beautiful bootie yarn, or or about why you're suddenly so into camels, or the crazy coincidence of just having bought a new kind of ice cream for your sister and then later that same day reading about how it goes much better with biscuits...and you come up against that wall of a phrase, "This friend I met on the Internet."  And then they look at you and they imagine a seedy motel in Paducah, where that video store clerk you met online awaits with a bottle of cheap bubbly for you to leave your husband and children and Away With Him to a new and exciting life.  "This friend I met on the Internet."  Hello?  Lifetime Televison?  I've got a movie pitch for you.

My most recent encounter with this phenomenon came when I went to visit my sister in the hospital and brought her (as all new mothers should be brought) some fancy soap for her first postpartum shower.  Jess loved it and took in all its herby goodness and the sweet owl on the wrapper with appreciation as I hemmed and hawed away about how it was made by this woman I know, well, from the Internet, well, I met her through the blog, and she makes this incredible soap, and she's a knitter, but I've never really met her, just through the Internet, and well...  And finally it hit me.  Why the heck was I putting myself through all of this when I could just say, "A friend of mine made it"?  So that's what I did.

And my friend Maryse just gave me my new favorite word.  And my friend Cathi (a MILF indeed) sent me a link to Tori Amos's new video, because she knew how much I needed it.  And my friend Ashley introduced me to the phrase, "heteronormative gender fascists" which I think would make a great band name.  And the talented Maritza tagged me with a Thinking Blogger Award to pass on. And that's just to name a few. Friend, friend, friend.  Say it with me now, and drop the whole  "Internet" thing.  Don't it feel good?

And I really needed my friends this week- even if they didn't know it.  On top of the heartbreak in Blacksburg, we had difficult news from my doctor about the Fricklet, which resulted in some scary tests (needles as long as your arm!), much loss of sleep, and a wait that, had it been minutes instead of days, would still have been too long.  Yesterday we found out that all is well.  Just another case of modern medicine's commitment to giving every woman in the world an anxiety disorder.

Tonight I plan to retreat to the bath to soak off the tears and sighs and pains of this week and replace them with lavender and rose petals and skin-softening oatmealy goodness.  Megan, take me away!

Thanks, friends, for keeping me afloat.

Through Googly Eyes

I have this wonderful friend named Jane.  She lives on Cape Cod and works in a museum and can make anything- anything!  She bakes from scratch and writes books and makes leather-bound journals and sculpts tiny monkeys lovingly cradling tropical fish in their clay arms.  Once for my birthday she handmade wee envelopes out of beautiful papers, each with a distinctive pen-and-ink drawing on the front and sealed with wax.  Inside each envelope was a small message of comfort, for when I needed it most.  (I have opened most, but am saving one.)  I miss Jane very much, as I rarely see her.  However, I am reminded of her almost every day because I have to use an elementary school bathroom.  See, Jane loves googly eyes, and when we were in grad school together, she would always bring a packet of them along, because there is no thing, it seems, that cannot be improved through their application.  The most memorable use of googly eyes I can remember from our time together is when she stuck them on the toilet paper rolls in the dorm bathroom.  Imagine your suprise at noticing googly eyes staring out at you from such an unexpected place!  Or rather, imagine your surprise as you undressed the next morning if you hadn't noticed them in time.  A-hem!

At the farm this week, there was not enough Internet power to blog, so I found myself fooling around with my stats and such, and there I discovered that my blog looks a little strange through Google-y eyes.  For instance: people searching for the term "loveswing" on German Google will find my site first, because of this post and Cara's comment on it, though if you check out a couple of the other links, you'll see that Herr Loveswing was probably into something a little racier than a two year-old's birthday photo.

I've also received plenty of hits from people Googling "a million little pieces book report" which totally cracks me up.  I'm a part of the plagiarism problem, after all!  I picture high school English teachers across the country receiving a slightly tweaked version of my scathing review.  I have to say, I'm tickled.

Checking out my stats has also brought me surprises of a not-so-pleasant or giggle-worthy sort.  I found, for the first time, a photo of mine on another blog, and even though the entry on the blog gave me credit for it, I was never asked permission for the use of my photo.  While I know the blogger meant well- even meant to flatter- it was jarring to find something I consider "my work" posted elsewhere.  In addition, and on a lighter note, I've received a TON of hits lately from a couple of very conservative political sites, which directed readers to one particular post of mine that they found funny- in a good way.  This made me feel a bit sleeping-with-the-enemy-ish, but it wasn't until a couple of my red state readers poked around further, found content they didn't like, and left some nasty comments that I felt I had to do something about it. I took the post down.  No huge loss, unless you count the drastic drop in hits.  That's a drop I can take.

The Girls Only Weekend was estrogeneriffic.  We got 700 little plants into the ground (swiss chard! spinach!  scallions!) and I thinned countless greenhouse plants (survival of the fittest!) and wore the uniform (overalls!  comfy!).  We watched "Desperate Housewives" and knitted and really, really tried to sleep in, despite a couple of years of training to the contrary. 

More knitting and less greenery in the next post!  And if I find some googly eyes, I'll be sure to plant them in the girls' room and tell you how it goes...  It is April, after all.  Time for foolin'. 

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

I think this photo adequately sums up the past four days, but of course I can't help but share some more.

Three of my grandparents grew up in the country.  Their parents owned general stores, planted tobacco, sent them running to the well for water.  One was a city girl.  Two married and lived throughout the world: in the shadow of Mt. Fuji, on the beaches of Bermuda, in the officer's clubs of Pretoria.  Two married and settled in the suburbs, raising three daughters just a few miles from where I sit now.  Suburbs, wild places, foreign soil- I think these are all a part of who I am.  And as I checked in on the blog from the farm (farm Internet- enough for email, but for blogging, forget it), I found comments and emails from friends remarking that my posts had either given them the impression that I am a hipster, crunchy granola type, fox (okay, that was my slightly biased dad), or mousy suburban schoolteacher.  After a few giggles, those comments did make me wonder about my Internet presence and how I come across.  I'm always forgetting that people I know in "real life" read this blog.  (Sorry about that pregnancy announcement snafu, guys.)  I want to be straightforward and true to myself here, but of course on a blog you get to edit and shape and frame your life in certain ways that might just polish things up a bit.  Okay, so yes, I am mousy.  That's really the bottom line.

This week I'm celebrating that hippy/crunchy side of me.  The side that would rather be at the farmer's market than anywhere else on the weekend.  The side that buys organic and recycles and doesn't mind the dirt (but has never and will never wear Birkenstocks, no matter how comfy).  But there's also a healthy helping of hipster in Charlottesville.  Hipster crunchy?

I've returned to the suburbs to drop off the Biscuit, but I'm returning today for No Boys Allowed Weekend.  There will be knitting on a project long overdue, and pie, and gardening, and one very fancy dinner for two due-in-September gals who deserve the break.  And maybe we'll just dance naked in the light of the Louisa moon.  Who knows?  There'll only be the deer and bears to know. 

Fear of a Random Planet

I never fell prey to the cult of "random" when the word became synonymous with...everything.  For a while there, it seemed the whole world was in a constant state of playing the slots- what would come up next?  Dad was random.  My grammar lessons were random.  The fact that the window was open when we walked into the classroom in the morning so the room was like a meat locker....so random!  However, blogging has, among other things, caused me to embrace the word.  After all, there's just no Rhyme or Reason to this post today (perhaps they have been banished by the Mathemagician). 

First up: Wallabies!  Again with the plug: Nikki (formerly blogless, then with blog, then blogless again) and I have started a Flickr group for those who would like to knit this pattern.  Check it out!  Nikki's photos really show off the kid-knit perfection that is the Wallaby.  The pattern writing owes a lot to Elizabeth Zimmermann- in fact, I believe she's credited, to an extent.  You can pick it up all over, but a few online sites are here, here, and here.  Got a niece?  Nephew?  Niecephew?  Baby on the way?  Get Wallabyin'! 

This is the Peace Fleece one I'm working on.  I just can't get enough of this stuff.  The ballband was soaked with lanolin, and my fingers always feel so smoooooth after working on this for a while.  Greased Addis are kind of fun, too.  Plus, who doesn't like to knit and promote peace at the same time?  This should fit his Biscuitness next year.  It's a size six.  He'll be three.  He's a biggie.

Wooooooly goodness, no?  I love the hot pink flecks.  (The Biscuit has great love for pink.)  And here's the plan for springtime's Wallaby:

Next, up- a few arrivals in ye olde poste boxe (forgive me- I went to college in Williamsburg).  You know what these are, right?

That's right- Beaverslide color cards.  Got get you some.  After I finish my CPH (which will likely happen some time after I begin it) I'm thinking of moving along to A Cardigan for Arwen or Ariann.  It'll be this or the Blackwater Abbey, whose color cards are FREE and on their way to me right now.  Check out the "Moss" color.  Drool.

Then my SP weighed in with some stitch-marker-notions-soft-yarn loveliness, and as a bonus, the Biscuit got hold of his first candy ever.  Click here for an unflattering shot of Tootsie-chewin' action.  Sticky!

And here's your Flickr tip for the day: Check out this group.  I have long wanted to amass a collection of photos of apostrophe misuse to use in my classroom, but they've gone and done it for me!  Thank's you's guy's!

And finally, I made some lovely muffins this morning.  That's all.  They were lovely.  But here's something else blogging will get you to do: use the good dishes.  Presentation, people!

The Good, the Bad, and the Nightmares

The Good:

Flickr.  Flickr.  Flickr.  If you've been wondering where I've been, wonder no more.  I've been here, on my nascent, newborn, busy-watchin'-its-Baby Einstein-developmental-videos, still-in-diapers Flickr site.  (And yes, I saw that movie, and yes, I actually thought it was funny, sometimes.)  I've been adding contacts and tagging photos and trying to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the sheer bigness of it and the talent represented therein.  Also, I have been setting up a new group with the lovely Nikki for those who would like to post photos of Wonderful Wallabies.  If you don't know the Wallaby, you should, and Nikki's photographs will definitely push you over the edge.  It's a super-versatile knit- the handknit version of the hooded sweatshirt.  I've finished my first (KnitPicks Swish), I'm working on my second (Peace Fleece) and planning my third (Blue Sky Organic Cotton).  I got into Flickr because I wanted a place to store my Project 365 set, and the above photo is yesterday's entry.  It has an interesting (if brief) story behind it.  Go check it out!  Also on Flickr, for those of you who feel the snack love, I have one word for you: CUPCAKES (thanks, Walt).

The Bad:

Big Pre-Bad Disclaimer: The pattern, the author, the whole "vibe" of this hat (yes, I also liked that movie) are fantastic, laudable, worthy-of-many-many-cupcakes. 

I am so afraid of failing at this hat.  So much so that I delayed beginning it.  So much so that I almost let the yarn talk me out of it. So much so that I think I have lost all perspective and I have no idea, currently, whether it is working out or not.  This hat is for someone very special, see.  And also, it requires that I learn a new technique, which is something I sometimes avoid for fear of failure (are you reading, Mom?).  But as you can see, I have started it, and I'm doing okay with the two-handed thingy, but I'm really, really hoping that the whole severe blocking thing works out.  Really, really hoping.   Oh, and I knit past the place where I should have joined the lining.  Am I ripping back?  Hells, no.  I'm thinking of doing this instead. If you have done this and have clear directions for me, I'll be your best friend.

The Nightmares:

You'd think these would be the bad, but they are actually the Truly Awful.  If this were the SSAT, the analogies section might look like this:

Bad: Julie's Nightmares

a)  irritant : Rush Limbaugh

b)  weird : David Lynch

c)  vast right-wing conspiracy : the resurgence of "preppy"

d) plump and delicious : these cupcakes

Now if you remember from your Kaplan SSAT books, the correct way to approach analogies is to make a phrase that connects the two words.  In this case, that phrase would be "..does not even begin to describe.." So now you clearly see that the answer is "all of the above," which of course does not exist because we're talking nightmares here, people, and in nightmares, the correct test answers are invisible.  Or the test itself is blank.  Or you forgot to ever attend the class in the first place, but still must take the test, which is blank, which you notice at the same time that you realize that you are, of course, naked as a jaybird.

All kidding aside, I have had some truly awful nightmares lately.  This is only natural, of course, as events of the past few months have brought into focus some terrible things- death, loss, grief, finality, how fragile we all are.  But these dreams.  Where I can't save my child or myself.  They have to stop.

I remember once Mr. Frick was trying to develop more patience with a particularly irritating (in the above sense) co-worker, and he decided to visualize handing the man a red balloon.  "You can't stay pissed off at someone when you're picturing yourself handing them the string to a red balloon," he said.  And it seemed to work.  Maybe tonight before I go to sleep I'll check out Flickr.  Your world just can't come crashing down when there are cupcakes to be had...right?

Have a Cookie

Those cookies in the shot above (next to my finished Socks 101) were initially placed there because I'd earlier emailed with another blogger about how life might be easier if I were writing a snacking blog.  No KALs to join and let down.  (Who neglects an SAL?  Not this gal.  Pringles for all!)  No yarn email notification lists to join and then be let down when no yarn materializes.  (Snacks are cheap and not produced in limited numbers, unless you like snacking on, say, the World's Most Expensive Chocolate.)  No pressure to learn the technique-du-jour. (Unless there's yet another way to eat an Oreo that I haven't heard of.)  (Fun Frick Family Fact: My dad wasn't allowed to open his Oreos and lick out the cream.  Oupa's was a strict military dinner table.  This, I think, explains a lot about my dad.)

A napping blog might be even better.

At any rate, once I'd photographed the cookies, my little brain started thinking about other ways one might connect cookies and knitting (as it tends to do, good little BS-shoveling English major brain that it is), and it reminded me that I had some questions for you.  The other day Mr. Frick managed, while fiddling with my laptop, to erase all of my cookies.  This means that if I've commented on your blog in the past couple of weeks, it means I really love you, because I had to re-enter all of my info.  And you know, when you have dickety-eleven blogs in your bloglines, what a pain that can be.  And then Brenda posted about Project 365, reminding me that I'd planned to do it.  Which reminded me about my meager Flickr account and how I have no idea what the big Flickr deal is.  And of other New Year's business I need to take care of, like organizing my archives.

For someone who remains glued to the laptop as much as I do, I know very little about how this stuff actually works.  I only just, in the last week, figured out how to Assign Multiple Categories to my posts, which is a good thing, because I'm always sneaking FO's into posts that have little or nothing to do with them (cough).  So...if you'd care to comment about any of the following topics, I'd really appreciate it:  Typepad and Archiving, Flickr and its Many Wonders, Other Blogging Doodads I Should Know About, Project 365, Napping, Snacking, Donkeys.  (I throw that last one in there because of my newest blog obsession.)

Thanks, in advance, for the help!

Public Service Announcement

We interrupt this New Year's Blog Vacation for a special service announcement.  Remember bloggers, you put the YOU in Yarnival!  What's that you say?  There's no YOU in Yarnival!?  Thanks.  My point exactly.  Get over to Carole's blog and submit something for the next issue.  Monday is the deadline.  You've been blogging hard in the '06, and I know you've got something to show for it!