Category Archives: Diary

In Which She Is Thankful For Friends And Opportunities

We spent a day and a half with t! and Jan this weekend. We did a six-hour visit with them at Upper Canada Village and then stayed overnight with them at their homestead, and we had a wonderful time. Owlet didn’t have a morning nap in the car on the way down, despite scheduling things so she would, but I nursed her to sleep mid-afternoon after a picnic, and she slept for forty-five minutes while everyone else went off and did different things. I just zoned out next to her in the shade of some trees and enjoyed the sounds of the wind, water, and horses (partly because it was nice to do, especially because I was fried and crashing, and partly because I’d forgotten both my spindle and my knitting at home). Sparky learned how to milk a cow there (and did well enough that he was using both hands, not just one like the farmer started him off with), how to pump water and slop pigs, and he helped feed the chickens and gather the eggs before supper back at Rowan Tree Farm. He has decided that he is going to be a farmer when he grows up, which I think is a very noble calling in this day and age, considering all the other cool stuff a seven-year-old thinks is awesome and shiny.

Owlet was entranced by all the horses (it was a horse weekend, with various exhibitions and competitions and so forth), and she got to see her first real live baas. I don’t think it really sank in until one came right up to the fence that Sparky was standing on and gave one of those loud, directed BAAAAAAs that sheep can give. She said “Baaaaa! Baaaaaa!” all the way back along the road. She climbed all over Carter, t! and Jan’s husky-collie mix dog, too, who was beautifully patient with her, and kept trying to give him her open-mouthed kisses on his very wet nose. And as a delightful bonus, she slept the whole night through there (yippee! she was certainly tired enough after a long day outside with so many things to see).

I am so thankful that my children have these opportunities, and that we have friends who enable them to experience things like this.

Also, they were selling dyed roving at $10 a pound in the store, wool from the Village sheep carded on site in the woollen mill (the first place we visited, much to Sparky’s excitement — I love this child — and wow, the size of the water-powered carding machines!). So I got to buy myself a treat at a crazy low price! I got some navy and some deep chocolate brown. They were also selling yarn they’d dyed with natural dyes, and I wish they’d been selling some of the lovely soft olivey green or pale purple as roving. Or even some undyed roving, so I could experiment with some food-based dyeing myself.

It was a wonderful way to spend the last weekend of summer. School starts tomorrow for Sparky, his first day of grade two in an 80% French classroom at a brand new school. I’ve been trying for a week to make a ten-minute appointment with his new teacher so he can see that s/he is nice, not intent on making him miserable, and seeing a bit of the school to give him a bit of familiarity, but every time I call the receptionist tells me to call back a day later and they may have the class lists by then. As of today, it turns out that the school board isn’t releasing them until tomorrow, which means I’ve been made a liar to my son for promising him that meeting. Well, we’ll go over after lunch and walk around the outside, anyway, so he has at least that. I’ve left a voicemail with the school principal, whom we know, as she was the principal at Sparky’s school when he was in kindergarten, and if she has a moment maybe we can meet with her, but I know she must be insanely busy today so I’m not holding my breath.

In work news, I am partway through a copy edit for my publisher (an adult novel, very fun, and it’s about an ornithologist so my knowledge of birds is coming in quite useful!), and was asked yesterday to take on another book to edit concurrently because they’re in a bind, on a shorter deadline than usual for the second project, with a higher fee for both projects as a thank you. With Labour Day weekend coming up, plus both Sparky’s and HRH’s schools closed on the 4th for the provincial election, I have more time to work, and so work I will. It’s either feast or famine for a freelancer, and after such a long famine I need all the work I can get. My mother-in-law has also been booked for a Grandma Day here with Owlet that week, too, so I have another day there to finish up the second project. I’ve already been working for two to three hours a night after the kids are in bed, but now I shall edit like a mad editing thing.

Playing Catch-Up, Part Three: The Fibrey Update

I ended up knitting two of those lovely squishy washcloths during the Olympics. They’re seriously awesome to use, so I will knit more. Both my mother and my mother-in-law hinted pretty plainly that they’d like some for Christmas, too, so it’s a good thing I memorized the pattern.

Everyone in my online mum’s group did great stuff during the Olympics, and someone knit their first socks on a whim, which inspired me to consider it as well. I was rummaging through my stash of handspun to find sock yarn, and came to a screeching halt when I realised that I drop double-pointed needles left right and centre, I don’t know how to graft toes, I can’t read a pattern with any kind of reliability, and the phrase “turning a heel” makes me stick my fingers in my ears and go “la la la I can’t hear you.” So in the interests of keeping me excited about knitting instead of running screaming for the hills the way I did when I tried to knit a set of fingerless gloves four years ago, I decided to knit a second washcloth instead. Group enthusiasm is catching. Hanging out with a group of enabling knitters is dangerous in that kind of situation.

I am moving ever closer to socks, though, in baby steps. It’s like gradual exposure this way! First, I am trying Owlet-size legwarmers on double-pointed needles (hereafter referred to as DPNs), because I do not get along with DPNs. So far, I have discovered that I can do 2×2 rib with mostly no mistakes now, and KnitPicks Harmony DPNs make everything easier. But DPNs are still deadly slow as compared to how I knit in the round with circular needles, because I have to fuss with them in the pause between the stitches on each needle. Ceri lent me her full set of Knitpicks DPNs, and I’m going to have to buy my own. I have a single set of bamboo needles dating back from my failed wristwarmers, but they’re so dull that they’re driving me mad. I think I will get the 5″ set, as 6″ is just a wee bit too long for my hands. Practising with the DPNs is required, too, because I won a skein of pretty hand-dyed sock yarn in our Olympic knitting draw, and now everyone wants to see me actually knit socks with it.

I found a box of handspun and fibre at the back of Bria’s closet a few days ago. (It used to be my closet, remember, so that’s not as odd as it sounds. I do not have a secret, magical yarn store the opens out of the back of my daughter’s closet. But if I did, it would be called Yarnia.) In it I found 12 ounces of the wool/bamboo blend I’d ordered when I fell in love after spinning 56 grams that I got from Ariadne Knits a couple of years ago. I also found 4 oz of black Shetland that I ordered after spinning some that Bonnie gave me when she lent me her Schacht-Reeves for a month while she recovered from eye surgery. Two bags of fibre that I adore spinning! Twelve ounces of the wool/bamboo!

I also found two of the ginormous Bernat Handicrafter cotton skeins in a box back there, too, which is fabulous because it’s what I used for both my washcloths, and I was considering buying some and weaving dish towels with it. Now I’ve already got the yarn. (Next, I would like to find a box of misplaced time, in which I could actually spin, weave, knit, read, and nap, please. Writing would be nice, too.)

Finding it was like Christmas! I’m a little upset that I forgot I had it all, though. That does not fill me with confidence. Sure, my stash has split into in two or three different storage places for over a year, and it’s not like I’ve been checking it regularly because I haven’t had time to knit or spin, but still, I’d like to think that my memory is better than that, especially about fibre I was so excited about when I ordered it, because I loved it so much. I also found a couple of braids of indie-dyed spinning fibre, one of which I did miss; I was beginning to doubt the memory I had of buying it. This should be a lesson to me to photograph everything I buy and enter it into my Ravelry stash ASAP. That all came to a grinding halt about eighteen months ago ago (gee, I wonder why), although I can’t use that as an excuse, really, because some of this stuff predates that. More catching up to do, I guess…

Playing Catch-Up, Part One: An Owlety Update

I’ve had a growing list of notes to blog, so I’m going to separate them into two or three shorter posts. (I know you’re glad about that. My posts tend to be novellas. Well, maybe novelettes.)

About a week ago I found Owlet standing a couple of steps up the stairs. I whisked her down. Half an hour later I found her four or five steps up, trying to hoist herself up to the landing. So the next day HRH built another gate and hinged it to the bottom of the stairs. Walking at eleven months, climbing stairs at twelve. I am so not ready for this.

Having learned how to wave goodbye, Owlet is now applying it to everything that moves. She can point to the door and wave, saying “bye-bye” when we talk about someone leaving, too. The other day her local grandparents came to pick Sparky up for a day out, and when she was told that Grandma had to leave she made a very, very sad face, waved, and said “bye-bye” in a heartbroken tone.

She had a little celebration on her actual birthday with godfamilies and honorary uncles in attendance, and then another a week later for all her grandparents. Both were lovely. She got books and clothes and a couple of toys, some of which we had to put away for when she’s a bit older. Our gift to her at the first one was a stuffed lamb, because she loves baas, and for the second (although I didn’t bother to wrap it, they went right into the china cupboard) was a set of tiny teacups and saucers with a delicate rose pattern. They’re the perfect size for a child’s tea party — an actual tea party, not a dolly party. I found them at a thrift store while seeking a used canning rack. I shall keep my eyes open for little plates to match/complement them. These were the cupcakes at the first party:

Here she is opening some presents at her family birthday dinner:

And this was Her Owletship nomming on ribs at that second party:

I took her for her 12 month vaccinations last Tuesday. It’s three shots here, two in one arm and the last in the other. She didn’t bat an eye at the first two, and just made an “oi, what are you doing?” squawk at the third. Brave girl! Or maybe she just has my crazy high pain tolerance. The nurse was a bit taken aback at how calm she was. She had a reaction to it five days later, spots on her legs that migrated to her torso and arms, but they began fading four days after that. I was warned the spots might happen; they’re less common than the fever and irritability, but they’re also not uncommon. Parents are always warned, but I’ve never actually seen it.

Her molars. Oh good gods, her molars. Earlier this week, there were two nights in a row that were awful. She woke up every hour or two, crying. She’s been whingey and clingy in general, warmish to touch although the thermometer swears she’s normal, her appetite is a wee bit off, and she’s just generally miserable, not wanting to play or read or anything. You can’t put her down to get things done, because she just stands there and wails to be picked up again. Everything’s just wrong, all the time. It’s got to be the molars.

Also, she randomly caught a 12″ diameter ball that Sparky tossed to her in the backyard yesterday. Everyone was surprised. It hasn’t happened again. What has happened again in that Owlet has been bonked with the ball repeatedly as Sparky tries to replicate the experience.

Good Things So Far Today

It’s only halfway through the day and already good things have happened that are worthy of recording.

  • I made quiche (affectionately known as Kitchen Sink Quiche, because apart from the two eggs and the milk, I toss whatever is in the fridge into it; today it was grated zucchini from the school’s garden, aged cheddar, diced ham, red pepper, and broccoli, all in a homemade crust) It was absolutely delicious.
  • We brought the delicious quiche over to Kristie’s house and fed it to her.
  • We got to watch Owlet and Rowan play together, which was thoroughly enjoyable, partly because they played so very well with one another and partly because it was my daughter playing with Rob’s son. That’s special indeed.
  • Our garden has been producing lovely peas and cherry tomatoes, upon which we have all been snacking, and the Beefsteak and whatever the other kind of full-size tomatoes we planted is are nearly ripe. And my basil, chives, and parsley (which all got chopped and tossed into the quiche) are bushy and healthy.

And yesterday:

  • HRH installed the shelving we had stored away in the front hall closet and the attic office cupboard, and we sorted through and organized shoes (which all have their own shelves now instead of being in a pile on the floor, thank the gods) and all my yarn and fibre (ditto, hurrah!). I found the missing bag of organic Merino I got for dyeing, and a couple of other bags of fibre I’d forgotten I had, including a braid of lovely Ozark silk sliver in pale greens, pinks, and cream. It looks like watercolours.
  • I sorted through the other set of baby clothes for 2-4 year olds and found the missing denim ball cap Sparky wore when he was a baby, as well as more soft shoes and lots of socks.
  • We finished watching Sora no Woto with Marc M, and it may just be my favourite anime series we’ve watched together so far. It was beautifully told and illustrated, and had lovely music.

In Which She Accepts Fate

I have a bunch of stuff to post, so I’m going to get the post covering the unpleasant stuff out of the way first.

I’ve had a really, really awful month, and a couple of things happened Saturday morning that brought it all to a head. I have been literally sick with worry and fear about finances and how we were going to handle this important conference I was registered for next weekend. I’ve been struggling to handle everything that’s been thrown in my way over the past four weeks. Every time something new happens I’ve asked myself if it’s the universe telling me to prove myself one more time and conquer the obstacle so I can go, or if I’m being told to understand that I’m not meant to go and to cancel, and every time I’ve worked it out and somehow arranged it so I can go. Yesterday I finally broke down under a one-two punch life dealt me, and I admitted defeat. I have to cancel, and it breaks my heart. I was really, really looking forward to it, despite all the panic about how I was going to manage it and how much easier it would have been all along to just say I couldn’t go. And it was going to be a long weekend away from my family, as much as I love them, with people I enjoy.

All along I’ve been worried that to give in and admit defeat would be taking the easy way out but good grief, how much more bending can I do? How much more grief and anxiety do I have to handle before I say that it was a good fight, but I’ve lost it honourably?

So I made the decision and cried about it a lot, and my family was wonderfully supportive and loving. I made the call cancelling my attendance last night, and it felt awful to do it, but the organizer fully supported my decision and my situation and helped me feel better about it.

The one good thing about it (apart from not going into total financial ruin) is that I will be home for Owlet’s first birthday after all. That means a lot to me. I can invite a couple of people over and bake piles and piles of cupcakes, and I can dress her up and we will have balloons, and then we get to do it again for her family-centred birthday celebration the following weekend.

And for the first time in about a month, I woke up this morning without immediately plunging into an anxiety attack. That tells me it was the correct decision. I’ve also been able to eat today without getting ill in some way, which is another welcome change from the way I’ve been living. Things still suck, but they suck a bit less, and I can deal with the amount of suckage that’s on my plate much better, now.

As if that wasn’t enough, Saturday morning I finally went out to buy my iPad and was stonewalled there, too. According to the salesman, Apple very quietly discontinued the iPad 2 16 GB model last month, and it has stopped shipping to non-Apple stores. (I can’t find Apple-sourced proof of this online, just mentions here and there of various shops in both the US and Canada marking it as discontinued and no longer available.) And of course, the iPad 2–16 GB, WiFi only — was the one I was going to buy, because it was the least expensive of them all, and all I needed. So there were only two left in all the Best Buy stores in the province, and they couldn’t be transferred to my shop in time before I left. (This was still before I cancelled my trip entirely.) I couldn’t upgrade my purchase because I didn’t have the money; I couldn’t buy it elsewhere or online because I had cash and shop-specific gift cards. The salesman was fantastic; he came up with half a dozen solutions, most of which we tried to make work, and each one of them fell through. Eventually I admitted defeat. With the rumours of the iPad 4 being announced this fall, I might as well wait till then and get the iPad 3 when the price lowers.

It felt like being kicked while I was down. And although I tried not to think about it, I wondered if I’d run right out after my birthday and purchased it if there would still have been one or two left in stock. But it was a huge purchase, and I traditionally hover and bite my nails about large purchases before I feel okay doing it. I don’t know whether that worked against me this time or not. Cancelling the trip also reduced my immediate need for the iPad, which was going to be my main note-taking and entertainment unit as well as my Skype link back home so I could read to the kids and talk to them every night.

I’m trying to look at it as having something to look forward to for a while longer.

More Brief Bits Of Daily Life

It is official: Owlet is walking. We have decided to formally confirm it as of Saturday. She’s been doing about three steps solo from here to there for a few weeks, of course, but Saturday she was following her brother around as he played with the cat and a remote-controlled R2D2, trying so hard to keep up with one hand along the wall or a table… until she finally got fed up, and just started walking determinedly after them. And now there’s no stopping her.

Saturday night was also the first time we left the kids alone with a non-family member babysitting them. Everything was peaceful and there were no hiccoughs. That’s a huge milestone for us, and opens up so many possibilities. Yay!

Among the wonderful things I received for my birthday, I got my very first pair of handknit socks from Ceri, about which I am positively giddy. It’s a lovely leaf pattern knit in a yellow and green Koigu yarn, the exact colours of willow leaves turning to yellow in fall. I adore them and I really ought to photograph them. I now need to start stalking the thrift shops for the perfect pair of shoes to wear with them.

Sparky is loving camp. There was an unfortunate beginning on the first day where the bell rang suddenly to signal the start of the day, and as he was already feeling trepidatious because he didn’t know what to expect and knew no one, he ended up in tears running after his first teacher and the rest of his little class as they all moved off casually, but the rest of his day was brilliant and he adores it. (I put a lucky penny loaded with love and kisses into his shoe to help him through the first couple of days, and I am told that it helped.) I wish we could afford to send him for all six weeks.

We’re working on slowing Owlet down when she eats. Most of the time she remembers to sign for more once she’s stuffed something in her mouth, so that’s an improvement. The other day we were in the car and I was passing bits of toasted bagel back to her. We had a run of green lights so there was a lull in the passing. She started making the “more” sign, but I didn’t see her, of course, because she faces backward and I was driving. She got very annoyed at me and started squawking to make me look up and see her making the exaggerated motion through the rear-view mirror. Hey, Mum, I’m doing everything right, and you’re not feeding me! What kind of reinforcement is this?

The Tour de Fleece spinning continues, and ends this coming Sunday. I plied and skeined my Teeswater samples, and I quite like them. In the top photo, the woollen-spun two-ply is on the left, and the semi-worsted two-ply on the right; in the lower photo, with the customary penny for comparison, the semi-worsted is on the top and the woollen on the bottom:

Stats for posterity:
Woollen: 16 wpi single, 10 wpi two-ply, 11g, about 28 yards
Semi-worsted: 36 wpi single, 20 wpi two-ply, 13g, about 75 yards

I don’t think I’m going to make it to the corespinning, because it would take a lot of time to find the right core yarn and decide on the fibre with which to wrap it, but today I started spinning my sample of the Cormo/silk blend Bonnie did that has been sitting in my stash for a couple of years now, and oh dear my. Zomg, people. Cormo. Cormo/silk. It’s like… like… spinning clouds. Or butter. Or buttery clouds. (But not cloudy butter.) It’s so soft. I was fully expecting to do just a couple of grams today, but it wanted to be spun really, really finely and really quickly, so I blazed through it at high speed and now I have just a couple of grams left to go. And then I think I’ll chain-ply it, because it doesn’t want to be a two-ply, and I’m not winding it off onto three separate bobbins for a three-ply.

And here is a spinning story for you.

I was setting up to spin the last of the drafted Teeswater. Owlet came up to me and gently touched the nests of fibre on my lap. “Baa,” she said. (She has previously made the connection that the fluffy white stuff I spin is sheep. Or maybe just that it’s white and fluffy like the baas in her books.) “Yes, baa,” I agreed. She watched me spin for a while, getting all over the wheel as she always does, yanking on the Scotch tension cord, getting her hands thwacked by the flyer and the hooks as they spun, grabbing the footmen, and trying to stick her finger into the metal orifice as the single disappeared into it. Finally, to distract her, I said, “Where’s Owlet’s Baa? Where’s your sheep?” (A friend’s daughter gave her a little stuffed lamb dressed up in an Easter bunny suit, which she calls Baa, like all other sheep.) Without hesitating, she turned around and looked at where it was in a small basket of toys, then trundled off to get it. I got to concentrate on the Teeswater for a minute before she was back. “Baa,” she said, and pushed the toy at the orifice.

She pushed the sheep at the orifice. Where I was feeding the wool. The white, fluffy baa is spun, and goes to be fed onto the bobbin.

True story. The level of comprehension and complexity of connection involved astound me.

Random Updates From Daily Life

(This was written, then I forgot to hit publish. Your RSS feeds aren’t confused; I backdated it to when it should have appeared.)

Owlet is walking, albeit stealthily. This morning I watched from the kitchen as she stood up in the middle of the living room, bounced in place for a bit, looked over at her toys by the wall, and walked over to them before plopping herself down. Ha ha; we see you, baby. It’s not a secret.

Sparky starts camp on Monday. His info packet arrived a few days ago, and his personal schedule came by e-mail. Guess who needs his own set of drumsticks? (We have one. It’s just amusing.) He’s doing science, karate, choir, drums, and art/cartooning. We also got the info packet for the International School, so we have supply lists and fee deadlines and so forth. He’s going to start halfway through the last week of August, and the first two days are mornings only, with the Friday being the first whole day, followed by the three-day Labour Day weekend. The ped days at this school are scattered through the weeks instead of being clumped into a long weekend, which is nice in a way.

HRH has painted the front awning! (Or whatever the thing over the front door is called. We call it the awning, even though it’s solid.) It was a horrible faded purple, once brown, we suspect. I chose a lovely dark green, and it looks wonderful. He’s going to continue the green up around the trim that’s the same faded purple-brown later this year when it isn’t so stupidly humid and hot. Next year we’ll tackle scraping and repainting the white ironwork and it will be the finishing touches on the front exterior.

(That’s actually not a very good colour match for the real thing. It looks more blue than dark green here. But anyway.)

I’m participating in the Tour de Fleece for the first time this year. (I’ve also signed up for the Ravelymics Ravellennic Games for the first time. Hanging out with my online July 2011 babies group of knitting mamas is doing weird things to me.) My personal goals were to spin for about fifteen minutes a day, to sample the Teeswater I got in a swap last year, to sample the Cormo/silk that Bonnie blended, and to attempt a new technique like corespinning. So far I am good on the first two, so now I get to choose one of the last two and give it a go. I’ve got one week left.

I received another freelance project, this one editing a YA science-fiction/paranormal title. My publisher recently launched a couple of fiction imprints, one for YA, and so this is my first pro fiction copyedit. It’s very exciting. I’m ahead of schedule because it’s good and an easy read. This is a nice switch from trudging through the fiction manuscripts from the self-publisher I used to work for, where I had to read them in order to evaluate them. I was instructed to edit this with a very light hand, which also helps. It’s also a nice switch from the last book I edited, a non-fiction book on manicure art, where I handed it back more red than black after rearranging and rephrasing and clarifying steps. Step-by-step instruction is hard to write for most authors, pro or not, so a lot gets reworked in the editing stage to clarify what the reader doesn’t know simply because they’re not the author.