Silent Lucidity = (Silent) Poetry

Since the post titles have been song titles for several months now, I am not about to break a theme for the poetry reading. Besides, Lola is in Chicago trying out for The World Series of Pop Culture and Queensryche has a Chicago-based tribute band of the same name. This is the poem, "The Armful," by Robert Frost. I often reread it when things get a little out of balance.

For every parcel I stoop down to seize
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,
Extremes too hard to comprehend at once
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with hand and mind
And heart, if need be, I will do my best.
To keep their building balanced at my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.

True Colors

I've got problems. Lots of them. All this pop culture knowledge is ruining my brain. I couldn't even remember that Simple Minds did the Breakfast Club song! Very confidently, I said, "Simply Red." MR shot me a look of horror and corrected me. All day I was trying to remember the name of the Phil Collins song with all the puppets. Land of Confusion. What the hell? And I paid for a plane ticket to test my pop culture knowledge? I'm ashamed. I even broke into tears when I heard Cyndi Lauper singing "True Colors" on an old Howard Stern show. I'm trying to merge onto the highway, wipe my eyes and sing the song at the same time. But that songs always gets me, so it has nothing to do with stress.

Yesterday, I realized I'm not prepared for cold weather outside of our city. We've had a mild winter like most. I didn't feel the need for hats or boots. Since I haven't felt like shopping since Gus was born (Yep, almost 2 years & I have no excuses), I don't have key items. I quickly found out that it isn't easy to find winter essentials in January! Found some boots that will do. And I've made a hat out of some old TLC Cara Mia. Its a plain spiral rib hat, but it reminded me why I dislike this yarn. Once you wear it for more than 20 minutes, it's stretched for shit. I started a simple beret and I'm hoping that it won't matter if it's stretched. The yarn is so soft, but it doesn't hold a shape. I bought a ton of it when TLC decided to get rid of it. Maybe I'll turn it into an afghan.

Thought I'd leave you a taste of the old MTV.



Lola
Oh, this is really gross (I swear I haven't done it), but have you ever typed in "ZIT" into YouTube's search bar? I can't bring myself to click Play.

Tonight is Your Night, Bro

Since the last post was so moving, I feel that I need to tack on a disclaimer for the next post.

Disclaimer: This post is full of silliness, shame and probably a crap-ton of grammatical errors.

Now I can procedde with my head hanging low.

You won't be hearing much from me this week. We're packing up and preparing for our trip to the Windy City. Last spring, we watched VH1's World Series of Pop Culture. I like to think that MR has more crap knowledge than I do, but I've been sinking to his level for the last 10 years. I'm not proud of this slide. Not at all. Mom would always say, "Don't fall in love with a man who's shorter than you." But Mom never warned us about falling in love with a nerd. So I didn't know what to do when Nerd Love came a knockin'. There were flags early in our relationship. Here's one example that should have sent me running.

Our first dating years were full of Star Wars events. The biggest flag came during the Phanton Menace premiere. I waited in a 3-hour line with him and some other friends. It wasn't until an MC announced a winner in the Best Wookie sound that I noticed a bar across the street. I left, sat on a stool and returned right before the MC announced Biggest Star War's fan. The MC was about to hand a shirt to a guy named Luke ("My parents named me after L.S" Really? What 30 year-old wasn't told that at least once?), MR stood up and shoved a card in the guy's face. "The guy with the Honorary Jedi card wins," the MC screams. The crowd fell silent. You could only hear my head hitting the pavement and some guy turning on his "lightsaber". The only thing that stopped me from passing out were the number of grown men in costumes. Anyone should worry about grown men in costumes if it isn't Halloween. Apparently, MR had hidden and "forgotten" about this card. He received it when he was a little kid after he sent in UPC codes from the figure boxes.

I've learned to deal with his "dorkiness". I always look for Marvel Legend variants while I'm on the road. If I do it in my spare time, we don't have to look while were cramming errands in before Gus' dinner. I took the time to Google all cult/superhero names before we picked a name for Gus. I almost caved for Ash, but I came to my senses. I've learned to fake an interested look and nod whenever I hear: Bruce Campbell, George Romero and Avatar

Anyway back to this weekend... After the show ended, MR put us on the mailing list. We submitted a questionnaire and got an interview time. We've been cramming our brains full of Pop Culture information. Robocop, Designing Women, Better Off Dead, Mars Blackman, etc. I'd like to think I will be the downfall of the team (Mark my words), but I beat MR during the original show. And I did this while knitting from a chart without a cable needle. I'd like to get to one Chicago YS, but the others think knitting is nerdy. I am hanging out with people that attend 24-hour Horror Marathons after all. Fiber is real dorky, people.

I'm bring along Nephew's Wallaby. I'm NO perfectionist in my regular life, but knitting is quite the opposite. I've knit Wallaby's k1 X p1 ribbing 3 times. The first time I didn't knit the ribbing on smaller needles. I didn't think it'd matter. Now I know why you knit ribbing with smaller needles. The second time involved a Tubular Cast-on. I was very pleased with it for the Pomathous sock. 112 stitches proved to be the demise of my Tubular love affair. I must have screwed up a knit or purl stitch. The ribbing was off and some of the loops just fell off the needle. I did a backward loop cast-on in the middle of the ribbing. I kept thinking, "What 5 year-old will notice that?" But the 30 year-old knitter kept noticing. So last night while watching Supersize Me (I knew there was a reason I skipped this movie), I did a long tail purl and knit cast-on on the small needles. I'm very pleased with the outcome and can't wait to work on it in the airport on Sunday. Friday's airport trip is to be filled with more pop culture cramming. That's what I'm told.

What's that in the background? Yep. I'm no longer a STR virgin. Well kind of, I haven't knit from the skein yet. So I guess I'm the girl getting ready for prom. I've shaved my legs and talked to my girlfriends about birth control methods. Once the first pomathous sock is finished, I'll start knitting my G-Rocks socks.

Wish us luck, and quiz me if you want.
L

When We Were Young

I despise this time of year. It’s after the holidays and things have slowed down dramatically. The girls are usually done with their winter concerts and the days are dreary. This year we had a bit of a respite with the unseasonably warm weather thus proving that global warming cough excuse me, climate change is good for something. Hell, I threw myself into my UFOs with a passion that I haven’t seen in a while. But even this couldn’t completely lift me out of my funk.

Ava and Clark, September 1972

There’s another reason that I hate this time of year: it reminds me of my brother, Clark. He died on January 28, 1973, and hardly a year goes by when I don’t find myself in some sort of emotional funk or another even though it has been decades. It usually doesn’t take much to get me going. Sappy commercial? Here comes that feeling in my throat. Seeing a baby? Yup, that’ll do it. Talking to my mom? Sure to bring it on. Driving home without any thought in my brain? You guessed it.

Sometimes, I imagine what my life would be like had Clark not died. First of all, I would only have one sibling – him. Mom has always been fairly clear about that. Second, I probably would have never moved to Ohio and attended Miami University. This would negate meeting the Flyer and having the girls. Last, I don’t know that I would be happy. Suffice it to say, I have accepted that it happened; it was an accident. Nobody means for a nine-month-old to die . . . it just happens sometimes.

When the girls were little, I didn’t let my guard down with Betty – she is the second child - until she was one day older than Clark was. Surely, I thought, God couldn’t be that cruel, but I wasn’t taking any chances. It is probably the reason that I never wanted a son because I was afraid of what would happen: either he stays or he goes. How would go on if it was that latter?

As hard as it was on me, I know that it was harder for my parents – that much is a given. The fact that they stayed together amazes me every day because I truly don’t know how you bounce back from this kind of tragedy. It was only recently that I realized that it must have been worse for Lola, the other sister, and our brother because Clark is everywhere in our house. There is a picture of him in the family room, Mom passes on the nightlight she used for him, and every baby who is born has an instant comparison to his picture. I couldn’t throw away Clark’s piggy bank I broke years ago. Occasionally I will cut my finger on it when I reach deep into my sock drawer.

Thirty-four years have passed and I think I have finally learned a few things. I have three siblings whom I love dearly. I might not always agree with what the youngest two say or do, but I love them unconditionally. The Flyer and our girls mean the world to me (whether we are agreeing with one another or not). And I generally am a happy person. But sometimes, especially around this time of year, I wonder how much would I barter with the devil just to have a cup of coffee with my brother.

There will be knitting content tomorrow . . . I did throw myself into the UFOs in a tizzy, after all.

Ava

Cotton Crush

Self-striping yarn is like a devil on my shoulder. "Come on darling, don't you want to see what maroon & yellow will look like together?" It has me ignoring the dirty clothes and the rumbling in my belly. I just keep knitting & before you know it, 3 inches hang off the needle. These socks were a departure from my usual routine. I haven't knit a heel flap, top-down or used a pattern since the Christmas of 2005. I love the PGR method, but sometime you just want a pattern. Especially for Toddler, I felt a little creepy when I measured his foot while he was sleeping. But here's the problem with this pattern, the foot part reads, "Knit straight until you're 1 1/4 inch from the toe." Once again, try to get an almost 2 year to sit still! I think that I could have finished the pair in a day, but the dog needed to be fed and let out.


Since I'm hitting the stash this year, I dug this out. Lorna's Lace in Vera for some Pomatomus socks. I can see why so many people love this pattern. The stitch pattern is easy and I like the look of a twisted knit stitch. I bought the yarn during my pink/brown phase (I'm in the midst of a green/brown phase) from ebay. Gus' socks were made from Reiga which is a nice hardy washable yarn. However, this superwash LL is so soft I almost can't wait to see how it washes.

Finally, delurk Typepad users! Delurk and give us advice! I hate that if someone leaves us a comment, we can't respond to most since they have to have a Blogger account. Is Typepad like this? I was already to tell Cara how I really wanted to invite Sonny & Carly to our wedding. Ava & I thought this was hilarious. We'd have entire phone calls during General Hospital, and only talk at commercials. Maybe it's good that I couldn't email the story. She'd think we were insane. Hell, maybe we are.

Lola

General Hospital Theme

How can you ignore the plea from one of your favorite nieces? I can't. Unfortunately, there will be no pictures for this post, or really any substance. I've been out of the house for a couple days now. We spent a lovely evening with my MIL over at MR's brother's house. When we returned on Sunday, I packed for a work trip. Very early on Monday, I hit the road with an agenda. Visit my favorite northern YS and buy yarn for Nephew's (what are we calling him?) Wallaby. The day went sour when I saw that the lights were off and the sign said, "Appointment Only." Day tipped farther when my appointment had to reschedule. I picked up some Paton's Decor (I don't know why. I think it's close to Encore and I'm tired) and started swatching when I got to the hotel. Tried to sleep after Heroes. Unsuccessful and have been for the last 3 nights. So once I hit PUBLISH, I'm falling on the couch.

See what'd I tell you, "no substance". I could tell you how my SIL's scientist friend has convinced her that babies can't taste anything, and this is why baby food veggies taste so bland. This news came out when I told her that I hated how they tasted. If we gave him baby food veggies, I always spiced them up. Thank god my MIL told her to feed Little One a lemon or fruit and decide for yourself. Or I could tell you that Little One is never allowed to cry. They are quick to soothe her back from the brinks of tears. Or I could tell you that I almost started to ovulate when Gus leaned over and kissed Little One without being told. If she was laying on a Pottery Barn for Kids catalog, an egg would have dropped. Gus kept calling her, "My baby." He would say, "Hold My Baby." And then he'd kiss and hug her. I could also tell you that he loves saying, "Hurray" with a lot of emphasise on the first syllable. We also like to encourage this new word. I could tell you all about this stuff, but I'm so tired I just don't give a shit (I shouldn't cuss, but I'm tired). I'll post soon with some finished Toddler socks.

Lola

Grace

Today, began in a most spectacular was. I truly had high hopes for it as I awoke to snow - SNOW - in the Poconos. A two-hour delay? I'll take that. What? A closure? In my district and not Betty and Veronica's? Damn, I was a good girl. And then it all unraveled.



Not that I am a perfectionist, but I do strive for it. A teensy, tiny little mis-cross about six rows back was bugging the shit out of me. I should have fixed it as soon as I saw it, but I honestly thought it wasn't anything major. Finally, it got the better of me, probably because I was obsessing about it and because I found another mis-cross just like it down a further 12 rows. I thought to myself, "Damn, Ava, you really don't have a clue what you are doing?" Just to prove myself wrong, I attempted to fix it.

Before I go on, those of you not related to me by blood should know the following: the sweater is being knit for Beaner, the daughter of the other sister. Beaner was born in England (a country whose spell I have fallen under - and yes, I know that grammar was abhorrent) and I bought the yarn at Liberty on my last visit. The other sister doesn't knit even though Lola and I have tried several times to teach her. In addition, Beaner looks a whole lot like her Aunt Ava, I title I don't like but the other sister insists on it. I know when to admit defeat. Anyway, the fact that this sweater has not been frogged defies logic. Partially, I feel like I am knitting a bit of home into for Beaner. In reality, I am a masochist and don't know what the hell I would do with the yarn that I now have grown to despise. I hate this yarn. Sure, it is softer than soft and the pink is my kind of thing, but I can't stand knitting with it. It looks like yarn that is spun on a drop spindle (not that there is anything wrong with that - just giving you an idea of what it looks like) and it catches on my uber-dry skin. This is definitely my candidate for January's UFO; otherwise, it is a DUFO (Destined UnFinished Object).



Here is what a little patience will do for you. I am not even going to tell you how many needles I used at one time (okay, it was five, including the crochet hook and it counts) or what an ass I looked like trying to fix the stitches. In the end, am I happy with the results? Sure. Am I thrilled? Not a chance. To fix those other two errors, however, I am going to go the duplicate stitch route. Beaner will never know.

Ava

PS - Grace is the name of the pattern from Rowan for Soft Baby (the yarn of my nightmares), what I needed to fix those six rows, and a great song by the late Jeff Buckley . . . but I didn't need to tell you that one.

Ring of Fire

So little Gus is back home. I can't tell how much a weekend is needed without diapers or saying, "Be careful." We had all these glorious plans. Fantastic restaurants. Maybe a trip to a flea market. Sleeping in. Drinks with friends. Well, we accomplished one of those. Guess which one? Sometimes I miss the days of the Bouncy Chair (after the colic days, or course). However, when MR got home last night, Gus kissed him at least 6 times. "I didn't even have to ask" MR said. You don't get that from a 6 month-old.

I also took the time to clean my knitting plate. I started a pair of socks for our annual Labor Day camping trip. I turned the heel about 2 months ago, and left it in my purse. Having nothing to knit, I picked it up and finished it on Thursday. Not letting that second sock get me down, I started it as soon as I dropped Gus off. I knit and knit. I planned perfect sock knitting activites. On Sunday, we watched the first DVD of Wonderfalls (I'm about to holler! If you haven't seen this show, rent the DVD! It was only on for one season. Quirky without being annoying. Sort of like Joan of Arcadia, without the preaching.) And I knit some more. I wanted to see how far a ball of yarn would get me. One ball of Trekking XXL #100 & an Addi's 40 inch size 0 will get you a decent pair of socks. I use the PGR method, so my foot length is about 7.5 inches. My leg (from bottom of my ankle bone) is about 10 inches . I think I got about 8.5 stitches to the inch. I probably could have added another inch to the leg, but one of my balls was short and I didn't want to chance it. I'd take a picture, but then I'd feel like I should shave. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow. But don't hold your breath, it's still winter and I got my Leg-Shaving Rules.

I really have nothing to knit but 2 blankets. And since one is all Noro and I'm trying to stay out of the LYS, Lizard Ridge is waiting. I did add a block to the Baby Miter Blanket. Must have been fate, since I got the call that we've got a new 2nd cousin (I'm sure he's far more removed than that, but it gets confusing. So he's a 2nd cousin). I'm sure that this baby is going to bring much happiness to their family. And maybe a little peace & guidance to one member.

Have I said how much I love our mother? Here's what Gus came home with:
We picked out the material a couple weeks ago, but I'd forgotten about it. I love fabric so much. Sometimes I just like running my fingers over the bolts. Unlike me, Mom puts it to work. I'd just let bundles of it sit around our house. Look at those pants! How can you be upset with a kid wearing smiling Popcorns? She also made him some pj's out of the sheet material. I thought my wedding dress was my favorite Mom Creation, but these are running close. I think that MR wants some too. Maybe we'll have a family pj party. That'd be pushing it.

Off to try & work. Sometimes I hate working at home. The View calls. All My Children and the Baby Blanket are screaming at me. Don't even let me tell you what the Dirty Clothes are saying. Flithy beasts.

Pink Cadillac

What the hell, Lola? Seriously, give me a chance to blog . . . three posts in as many days. Work must not be that busy, eh?



Anyway, we have been firing on less than all cylinders in our house, probably due to the lack of food in the fridge. It was so bare that I had to take a quick photo. Time was at a premium last week and shopping for grub was the least of my concerns. Lest any of you think that we are in dire need of assistance, please note that we have the necessities: beer, cheap wine, and salsa. Anything else would be overkill. The Flyer and I did go grocery shopping and it looks much more normal now.

As the title of the post suggests, I am truly in a pink mood. Just about everything that I knit these days has a ring of pink to it. Beaner's sweater is one fifth of the way done (holler) and I can't say that I am loving this yarn. Sure it is softer than soft and the color is sublime, but I don't like the texture. It feels the way that roving might feel if I had any inclination to knit with it. If you look closely, you can see the flub that I made in the diamond pattern. Why do pattern writers insist on making the directions challenging? I envision them sitting in a smoke filled room saying things like, "I know that SSK would be simpler, but hehe let's say this and see how many knitters cry!" I do love cabling without a needle for this, though I did have to find a way to remember where to put the needle to travel the stitches the correct way. Believe it or not, I had to quote Kevin Costner's "Back and to the left" line from JFK to get the stitches going the right way.



Cara was giving away skeins of STR to all virgins of the fabled yarn. I decided to give up my own Jaywalker virginity and give the pattern a chance. Yes, I own a pair, but Lola knit them so they don't "technically" count. The outcome has been outstanding. Even though I didn't pick a striping yarn, I like how the pattern is knitting up with the herringbone pattern. If they fit the Flyer, I may give the Trekking XXL a whirl in this pattern for him. The other pink WIP is the fair isle hat that I have in progress for my class. I am thinking green and lavender for the contrasting colors . . . what do you think?

Hope you enjoyed your weekend of freedom. I loved, absolutely loved, talking to Gus on the phone. Mom put him on several times and each time I got a "Hi" and "I mama." Sweetie pie!

Ava



PS - do you have a baby sling I could borrow? Gilly has become a severe nuisance when knitting. She looks for anyone - and everyone - to pounce upon. That's the Betster working on the Central Park Hoodie. Veronica is making an EZ raglan out of Debbie Bliss Cashmerino SuperChunky.

Spring Cleaning

We did a little cleaning here at Two Black Sheep. We've added some new blogs that we really enjoy, and gotten rid of one that has gotten confusing (I hate not knowing what I'm reading). The Lo Down is a brand new blog, and she's been reading us since we started in August. We're flattered and can't wait to see her projects. This list is only a small sampling of our blog list! The blog sidebar isn't large enough for everyone, so we put the rest on our Bloglines. Bloglines is like giving a kid one of those supersized Pixie Stix right before church.

You know that I love Ms. Jolie. Loved her since Hackers. I didn't really mind the creepy brother stage. Making out with Billy Bob almost turned me off. Ah, but then she became a Goodwill Ambassador. Could she flirt with me any more? Yep. Any one who compares a newborn to a blob is a woman after my own heart.

Gone Away From Me

I'm surprised that I can even muster up the strength to post. It's such a sad day. The poor Buckeyes lost. Oh, how boys? How?

As promised, my details about Beaner's sweater.


Simple seamless yoke from KwoT made from Wool of the Andes. It's a 4T and I used 3 balls of the main color (maybe). I also used some leftover WOTA for the yoke. Here's what I've learned this go around:

• Fair Isle gets easier with practice. I like the picking of the yarn with my left hand, but not enough to convert to Continental.
• Planning a fair isle motif takes a lot of planning. Still not sure about how to incorporate a design while having to do decreases. I'm sure an adult sweater would be easier with a motif since you'd have a lot more room to create. This motif was mapped out as I was knitting the sweater. Won't do that again
  
• Must remember to do the short-row neck shaping in stockinette and then start the ribbing for the collar. To me it looks nicer.
• Love the Knitpick Options! I was able to knit both sleeves at the same time with Magic Loop. Doesn't work that well with the Denise needles. I love Magic Looping it and these needles will allow me to do that with any project.
  
• I never get bored with small sweaters or the seamless action.

I've included care instructions with the sweater, since my mother gave me a horrified look when I said "wool". On the opposite side, I placed a photocopy from the book that was the inspiration for the colors. I'm hoping that Other Sister will find the book at her library.

I was going to bitch about some shit, but I want to be more positive this year. If I can make it through the month (who are we kidding, the week) , I'll call myself a success.

Love,
Lola

p.s. Did you put the Trouble album in our sidebar? I forget, but I love that album. The title of the post is the last song I heard from this album (In honor of the Buckeyes' defeat). Shelter is on one of Gus' lullaby cds. I cry ever time it plays.

Hang on Sloopy

Here is an actual question from SK on Friday night:

"I was looking in one of my design magazines, & I saw some cool knit creatures. Do you think you could teach me to knit?"

If he wanted to get laid, it worked. Can you imagine real knit porn? Man walks in and says, "Did someone order some US 19 DPNs?" <insert Porn music> I'd tune in.

The next night, we put Gus to bed and I grabbed some Paton's Classic Merino and my Denise's 8's. I cast on 20 stitches and showed him one stitch. That was it, he wanted to get his hands on it. I swear it looked like he'd been doing it for years. He did 3 rows and then tossed it aside saying, "My thumbs keeping wanting to do something." <insert more Porn music> But he was full of compliments and respect for knitters. Since I get a lot of crap for knitting "all the time", I felt vindicated. He did very well for those 3 rows. He knit super tight, but he knit. The shock doesn't end here! Oh no, sister.

The next morning, I was making waffles. He walked out of the kitchen and when he came back, he said "I left to knit one another row. Go look. I think I dropped a stitch." He even used the lingo! There was one more row and a split stitch. Yep. I'm a proud mama. In honor if him picking up the needles, this post is dedicated to my husband.

When we started TwoBlack Sheep, I don't know if SK took us seriously. He wanted a super cool name, and he came up with Steak Knife. I'm not sure why he thought this was cool, but we went with it. SK was born. Now that it's been a couple months, SK says on Thursday, "I'd like to be known as MR." MR stands for Medium Rare. Why?

"I'm the middle child. I do everything middle of the road. Nothing extraordinary, except meeting and marrying you (his words, honest). And I'm a little pink on the inside."

Please, don't ask me to explain his thinking. I've stopped trying to do this about 10 years ago before our second date. He left a note written on masking tape, "I will be at your door at 7:30 p.m." There was confusion about our first date. I say that he stood me up and he says I left two minutes after 7:30. That's two minutes after the start of the date. Never mind our silly beginnings, I introduce to you MR! I love you my big T-Bone. That's all the mushiness you'll get for 2007.


Here's 2 more pictures from our weekend. Gus really misses the Christmas tree lights. He used to lay on his belly and look at the lights. Now he does the same thing, but says "lights on" to the red light on the power strip. Oh it's sad and cute at the same time.


A preview of Beaner's finished seamless yoke. Poor Gus has to model everything. I'll post details tomorrow.

Off to prepare for the big game! Someone better bring the dip. Go Bucks!!

Bad

We got tagged by Mrs. Frick and she gave us B in honor of Biscuit's new eating habit. I was going to have Ava type something up. She has loads more talent when it comes to the written word. She'd come up with classy stuff and mine would just be crass. But since the title of the blog is Two Black Sheep, I've got to add a bit of Cheez Whiz to the party. Go on and guess which B's belong to which Black Sheep. And if you want to join the alphabet fun, leave us a comment.

Boys: I have always been very vocal about wanting to have boys. I didn't go the, "As long as it's healthy" route. Isn't that a given?! I just thought I'd be a better Boy Mom. So when they day came to find out, I was so afraid that the Dr. would say, "It's a girl!" and I'd have to fake happiness. I'm not saying that I'd shun the kid, but I just really wanted a boy. Hey, I'm honest. This picture is from our New Year's day and it's exactly how I wanted to spend it. It makes me real happy to say, "Here are my boys." Ok. Ok, the Pup is a girl. But we gave her a boy name.


Boobs: When you come from a family of big boobed women and you've got little ones, they come up from time to time. And when you're going through puberty, it doesn't matter if the family boobs are perky or saggy. It doesn't matter how many times you hear, "Oh they hurt your back. I'll give you some of mine." I remember in the 6th grade having to go through the annual scoliolis test. The school nurse told me to remove my top. I whipped off my Peter Pan collared shirt, and the nurse screams, "Oh my god! Cover yourself! Where's your bra?" Obviously, I didn't need one or else she'd be prepared. Only once in my life did I want to flaunt my boobs. I hadn't nursed the baby in about 3 hours and I needed a new bra. I should have known better. The woman measured me at a D cup (not right at all) and I had just bought the smallest pair of jeans I've ever squeezed into. I told everyone that passed. Then I started to leak, not sexy. But for a moment...

Bad Boys. Bad Boys: I love Cops. Once, we saw cameras around a police cruiser and I begged the husband to take his shirt off and walk around the car. Everyone knows that Cops can't resist a shirtless man. He wouldn't do it.

Boil: Ok, this is gross. Our father exaggerates every story he has every told, but the following one. Our family loves popping things (someone uses her fingernails and kind of hurts people . . . she knows it). Anyway the story, my dad was playing basketball and some kid had a huge boil on his butt. The coach took him into the locker room and had the team hold him down. The coach heated up a Coke bottle and put it on the boil. My dad said it exploded into the bottle. I really wish I could have been there. I said it was gross.



Boucle Yarn: I don't know why, but this stuff creeps me out. Can't & won't touch it.

Bitch: The word has never, ever bothered me for one single second of my life. You could call me a bitch and I wouldn't even bat an eye. Please don't get me wrong, I am probably one of the biggest proponents of equal rights that you will ever meet (I did get a little teary eyed listening to the NPR rehash of Nancy Pelosi taking over as Speaker of the House), but the word bitch doesn't have any effect on me. I don't consider it a term of disrespect; the only time that I find it remotely derogatory is when it is used in a rap song. Then, I find that rappers - folks who really have a grasp of the English language - take the easy way out.

Bags: If in the previous post, I confessed that I had a yarn problem, I probably should have been very honest and said that I have a slight bag obsession. Hardly a week goes by that I don't either buy a bag or decide which bag will be purchased next. Since this is B, I must also confess that my favorite brands are Burberry and Vera Bradley. Vera Bradley has come lately to me as my very first job was ironing borders for the company that made Vera Bradley bags. Mom was the master seamstress for their company and did all the finishing. At 12-years-old, I was grateful that anyone was willing to pay me to do work . . . even if it meant ironing yards of quarter-inch borders. Each yard was worth 10 cents so after multiple burns, I eventually made an honest buck. On and off, in and amonst baby-sitting jobs, I earned money the old sweat-shop way. Is it any wonder why I shyed away from them for fear of burning?


Breathe: Whenever I hear this song, I am firmly rooted to the spot. Even the Hilary Swank movie currently being pimped by the song gets a little more credence by Sia's breathy voice (and trust me, this movie does nothing for me . . . and I am an English teacher). I'll sit through commercials for the University of Pennsylvania's medical institutions just to hear this song. The last episode of Six Feet Under, a show I never got into, will remain on my television just to hear the song. Granted it doesn't make me cry like Coldplay's "Yellow," but there are notes and words in that song which conger up emotions I don't usually get. If ever I were to create an "all-time favorite" song list, this one would be two or three. Of course, the song title for this post is pretty damn awesome as well.

Books: Still have yet to meet a book I don't like, although I am getting rather fickle about them. If I don't like them in the first 50 pages, I don't bother any more. Honestly, life is too short for boring books. That being said, our mom doesn't like to read, but she understood that value of reading and so we were inundated with books as kids. Some of my best memories were going to the main library in my hometown to get new books with my dad. The Westing Game (humor me) may be the single finest example of literature that I have ever found; I still read it every single year, but there are so many worthwhile books out there to read. For some reason, though, I always have a plethora of Red Dress Ink books since the plot is so easy: girl finds boy, boy annoys girl, girl finds another boy, this one shits on her, first boy turns out to be really nice . . . the end.

One of these books is written by my brother-in-law . . . guess!

Baby: It isn't really a secret in our house that I go through periods of wanting another baby. The Flyer and I were really young when we had Betty and Veronica and our odds at having another set of twins - 60% - weren't what either of us would call betting odds. So, at the age of 25, I had my tubes tied. About once a year, I think about having another child, but I have realized that I don't really want to raise another child, I just was to be pregnant again. You see, I really, really enjoyed being pregnant. I loved just about every aspect of it except for the bedrest (notice that wasn't a B word). Whenever I see a pregnant woman, I get a little envious of her probably because I know that it will never be me.

This post was brought to you by the letter B and the number 10. Go on, ask for a letter. There's a little bit of a Black sheep in all of us. Show us what you got.

New Year's Day

This is a rather long post on Two Black Sheep. We have learned a lot in 2006 and we wanted to share. The first four are Lola's and the last four are Ava's. Enjoy and have a wonderful new year!

1. Just because you can knit it, doesn't mean you should knit it.
Urban Adventure is still waiting to be felted it. I just can't bring myself to throw it in the washer. I think it was knitting in the round for 19 inches on at least 300 stitches. Why put yourself through that?And even though I love my Pimlico shrug, a 2x2 ribbing on 300+ stitches for 6 inches is enough to make any knitter put the needles down. Same thing goes from my Miter Square afghan. As the Mason Dixon books says, "Who knits a queen size blanket?" This idiot. I do love curling up under it, but I also hate worrying about how much it is pilling. I always think back to it's glourious beauty right after I finished the border. Yes, it is loved and it shows it, but it took forever to finish and I want it to look gorgeous again!

2. Cabling without a needle is the greatest thing since row counters.
Demi couldn't have been completed without this accomplishment. I had to have reminders all over the charts and patterns, but I can't explain how this was a lifesaver. I have small hands, so juggling one more needle is a nightmare. I even swatched with the cable needle and without. I didn't notice a difference on the fabric and that's when I decided to chuck all the cable needles I own.

3. Seamless knitting is the greatest thing since cabling without a cable needle.
As I've said in a previous post, it is going to be difficult to seam again. And for some reason knitting these sweaters, made me feel like a real knitter. Maybe it's because I didn't have a true paper pattern. Maybe it makes me feel confident when something I've knit fits well. Or maybe it's because I love reading anything E. Zimmermann has written. I don't know what it is, but it these sweaters make me feel like a knitter.

Betty makes her pictorial debut on the blog in the Three Tiered Scarf from Knit 1.

4. Blogging isn't such a dirty habit.
Before I used to shut down my blog windows real fast if SK came into the room. I've described it to Ava a thousand times, I felt similar to a man getting caught looking at porn when his woman walks in the room. Ava finally talked me into starting the blog. I begged SK to not tell our friends on a camping trip we took right after Two Black Sheep was up. Begged. They all know that I knit like a crazed woman, so it isn't like I was hiding my hobby. And it isn't like I have normal friends, we have a ton of Star Wars, Comic book, Horror movie, Music nerds as some of our best friends! For some reason, I have yet to come out of the closet to friends or family. But blogging has been great. I love being able to see Ava's projects. It's easier than us leaving messages all week. And when we get comments from famous bloggers, I'm like a school girl .I love seeing different takes on projects. When I'm stuck, I do a quick Google search, and BLAM I'm on my way again! Ava's note to SK - when someone offers you a perfectly good pseudonym, don't say, "Dude, I want something cool, like Steak Knife" because you know damn well we would pick that one.

5. Felting isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Maybe it is because I really don’t have the patience to go and check on something all the time (as witnessed by my parenting skills . . . if they ain’t crying, they are probably okay), but I just don’t get felting. I even emailed Lola on the last round of felting and told her that this latest attempt, Fiber Trends Felted Clogs, might be it for me (and by it, I mean never attempting it again). They turned out okay, but I may leave felting to the professionals, or the folks who can’t read a care label (which is how felting probably occurred if you asked me).

6. You don’t always have to knit for yourself.
Seriously, I don’t care what anybody else’s personal feelings are on the war. Mine are my own and I choose not to get too terribly political about it unless you happen to be my brother. My point? Knitting a helmet liner was one of the most fulfilling things I knit this year. The fact that I was able to help out Kimberly and have her cousin and his friends truly appreciate something was better than whatever else I would have done with my time. Even though they didn’t start out for her, I am glad that I gave Mom the wristwarmers. She will get more use out of them than I will . . . besides, I have the pair that Lola knit for me after I went a little crazy buying Gus pressies before he was born.

7. Choose your patterns wisely.
This was one of my biggest disappointments this year. I know how to knit; I know how to get gauge; I know how to maintain gauge . . . I need to learn when to give up and admit defeat. Too many times, I have picked the wrong pattern for the wrong reasons. Sizzle was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. Maybe it was the allure of the cruise with my girlfriends or maybe it was the fact that I was going to wear it on my anniversary or maybe – just maybe – it was the fact that my tits (yes, I like that word much better than any of the alternatives) would look awesome in it. What ever the case was, Sizzle was a fizzle for me. The yarn was lovely, the pattern was very, very simple, but the fit left something to be desired. I think that I am going my own route from now on since I am the one who has to live with the results. Lola, you may have sold me on EZ’s methods as the baby sweater was so damn easy and quick to boot.

8. Stash can be managed . . . I just don’t know how.
This isn’t a section to make resolutions, but here goes. Hi, my name is Ava and I am a yarn addict. Sale at A. C. Moore? Dude, I had to buy this because the mark down is so low. Near Nazareth? I should check at Kraemer’s and see what is one sale. Plus, one more skein of Galway couldn’t hurt anyone. Visiting London? Let’s go to Liberty and grab some Rowan. God only knows when I will be back . . . truth be told, He probably does know since I give in to the Flyer every year and go back. Montreal? Who cares if the yarn shop proprietor was a little creepy and pushy . . . give me that Noro silk! See what I mean? Hell, the Flyer even encouraged me to buy another stand for my yarn when he should have been encouraging me to knit what I already own. So, in 2007, I am not buying any new yarn until there has been a significant “knit down” of what I own. Exemptions – I can buy the yarn for the Flyer’s sweater and use Mom’s gift certificate for Lady Eleanor.

Peace and happy birthday to Cara!

The One I Love

I don't know if you do this with your knits, but I build up a love affair. Especially with my sweaters, I think that's what keeps me going. The first couple sweaters I made were during the early months of my pregnancy. The Skull sweater from Stitch Bitch I thought would be big enough even when I was showing. While making a Debbie Bliss slouchy cardigan, I kept thinking, "How cute is my bump going to look peaking through?!" I imagine all the lively things I'll do in my new sweater. And when people see me having tons of fun, they'll ask, "Wow. Where'd you get that great sweater?" I'll toss my hair and say, "Oh this? I made it." And then skip away. Well, it never goes like that. The Skull sweater was so heavy and thus hot, I wore it once (While pregnant, I would almost pass out if it was warmer than 64). Someone did ask me about the Debbie Bliss cardigan, but I was washing my hands and the bottom kept falling into the sink. I think it was a bit to big. If I haven't said it, we suffer from our mother's paranoia, "Buy it big, it will shrink!" It's hard to break that habit and I still don't understand the "To Fit Bust" column of a knit pattern. Does that mean if I have a 36' bust, I should make the Medium? Or do I add on for ease? Screw it. And then there was Raspy from Rowan's Denim collection. I made this while pregnant knowing that I'd have to wait until after the kid was pushed out for a good spin around the city. Remember, I had to knit 20% more because of the built in shrinkage. The front bunches because it's the same as the back and once again, it's just a smidge to big. I wanted the perfect lounge sweater! One that looks cute with pj bottoms or one that looks cute in Target. Enter EZ.
I started this a couple months ago with no target completion date. I got both sleeves done very fast thanks to a work trip, but the body languished. About a week ago, I noticed that I stitched the year into the hem and I thought, "How horrible to not have it done in 2006!" That's all it took. I was crazed to finish this and "Ta Da..." She's done, fabulous & all that I could've imagined! Maybe I'll be wearing this when Gus finally says, "Ma, they can hear you singing 3 cars over!" Or maybe during his first trip to the zoo (haven't quite made it there yet). Or during my trip to Barnes & Noble later today...

I can't tell you how much I adore Elizabeth Zimmermann! It fits! Less than a dozen ends to weave. No pattern to shove into my purse. And it just seemed to finish itself. Last night, I put it on for SK. And I think he was as shocked as I was. It was 3 tubes only a couple nights ago. In the spirit of my Knitting New Year's Resolution, I used all stash yarn. Paton's Classic (not sure when I'll run out of this stuff) on US 8s. The only modification was the hem. I don't like how she adds the inside color last and then stitches the hem to the sweater. I'm taking Brooklyntweed's route from now on. I'm starting Beaner's sweater as soon as I finish SK's felted clogs. It' s going to take a truly gorgeous sweater to break me from the Seamless crack pipe.

In yesterday's post, I made the announcement that I was going "gut" Gus' room. Not sure if that's going to happen. I just want to prance around the house in my new sweater. She doesn't need to rummage through toy boxes yet.

Love ya,
Lola

p.s. SK just called to tell me that in his Health Newsletter at work, it says to keep your thermostat set to 68 degrees. If you have it set any where from 60-65 degrees, you could have long term health problems. They are listed as hypothermia, sleepiness, confusion, and achey joints. And he says, "Well you do go to bed early and you are confused a lot." Early to him is anytime before 11:30 p.m. I'll chalk the "confusion" comment up to him being pissed that he's working today.

The Blues

This is how we feel in the Lola Camp. The Pup has been in this position since we got home from the holiday rounds. SK & I went back to work today. I'm back for one day and then off until the New Year. I plan on gutting Gus' room and play-areas. I think he's grown out of rattles... We've got to make room for all the trucks he received as gifts. Last night, he lined up 5 of his cars all with the back ends facing us. Maybe a tad OCD-ish...

I'll post a picture of my progress on the Comfy Gray sweater. I'm feverishly trying to finish this before 2007. A marathon of Law & Order are going to help this difficult task. I've joined the sleeves to the body and am about to start the raglan decreases. Still, it's a huge blob of gray crap and I'm slugging along. I'm not working on anything other than this project. I'm afraid if I don't finish it before 2007 that it'll sit in the WIP basket for the next 3 months. I want to finish it so I can start Beaner's seamless yoke. So off to the couch...

Silent Night

- Fetching (done) and given to Mom . . . thanks to Jessica for a reminder about how cool and simple the pattern is



- trip to Kraemers for some really awesome yarn (most on clearance, mind you . . . one bag of mill ends Little Lehigh Pebbles, a huge cone of mohair blend, some craft yarn for the girls)
- only one argument about how you exaggerate
- five beers and one-third of a box of wine down (Flyer is hitting gin and Squirt)
- Dad is off for French crullers from Dunkin' Donuts

Merry Christmas! Miss you, Lola!

Love,
Ava

PS - The Flyer doesn't want to start a family incident (that means argument to those of you not related by blood or marriage) 366 days in advance, but he wants to come home for Christmas next year. Tune in!

Little Drummer Boy

This is my "Merry Christmas" post. I'm not even going to attempt to rhyme. It would never come close to your glorious poem. We're leaving tomorrow after SK's office party. I'm keeping Gus home, so there's no blogging, knitting or even watching good ole Reg & Kelly. I have one more batch of spinach rolls to make and then I can sleep. I worked so hard yesterday, so I could relax all day today. I had to create a list to keep myself on track. Here's how it read:

Wrap gifts
Make cookies & spinach rolls
Pack
Shave legs

That's just how silly I've become and you know that I have yet to cross off the last one. Let me say, thank god for the Betty Crocker sugar cookie mix! I can't believe how good they tasted the next day.

I finished Gus' tomten last night (w/o the zipper). There is something about brown garter stitch that makes me so happy. It's so simple that it's beautiful. Seriously. I made some changes to the pattern. When I finished one sleeve, I realized that it was a very unattractive length. I hacked off about 16 ridges from the listed 40 ridges. I always freak out when I have to cut knitted fabric. I'm still picking pieces of brown wool out of the carpet. I also shortened the sleeves by 7 ridges. The border is my first attempt with an I-Cord, and I loved it! I found it almost magical. While watching Bones (cried like a baby during the Christmas episode), it just seemed to appear along the edge. I'll get a picture once the zipper is attached, I need my Mommy for that one.

Next to the tomten, is the pre-felted Noni Adventure bag. I'm not sure if the picture best represents its sheer size. I tried to put a book in there for reference, but it amazes me each time I grab it. I need a free day to felt it, so it'll wait for the new year. But what do the two projects have in common? I'm crazy and have a knitting death wish. Maybe. All of my recent projects (still have one in the WIP basket) require no skills. Straight knitting. No purls. No concentration. So a resolution is in need. My next projects will involve cables and fair isle. Promise! Seamless yoke for Beaner (fair isle at the top), We Call Them Pirates & Shedir.

Finally, a little picture of Gus for the holidays. He worked so hard one night, but never quite got there. He wiggled and wiggled, but was never able to turn around. His daycare teacher created a CD of their circle songs for a Christmas gift. It was perfect because we have a lack of children CDs. Last night, we danced to Wheels on the Bus and Five Little Ducks. Sounds better than the rap station he tuned the bedroom radio to a couple weeks ago. One night, I'm watching him dance. We're laughing and joining in, and then I listen to the lyrics. Not so cute.
I wish you an enormous amounts of holiday cheer! Have fun with Mom & Dad. I'll completely understand if I get a phone call and you're whispering. Just have lots of wine in the fridge.
Love you all,
Lola

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

With my sincere apologies to Clement Moore and family (and a stellar reason as to why I don't teach poetry) -

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house,
Pulling my hair out, scurrying like a mouse
The stockings are here, but the cat? Oh dear
So when is that St. Nicholas man coming here?

The girls were sprawled out with yarn on their lap
When I thought to myself, “I could use a long nap.”
But the Flyer with his Tumi and the dog with her bone
Would soon make a case to leave well enough alone.

Out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter
I jumped from the table to see what was the matter.
But on the way to the oven, I tripped over a case
And fell on the floor, sprawled flat on my face.



The Flyer, he sighed, saying, “I thought I put that away,”
And picked up the needles before I could say,
“Was that a set of rosewood DPNs on the kitchen floor?”
As I tried to convince him to show me once more.

The dog, bless her soul, came running in from the cold
And jumped on my back which wasn’t too bold.
She’s a lab, full of energy and kind of a beast
So I must have looke like a right proper feast.

Oh cashmere, oh silk, oh alpaca wool blend!
Oh stockings and hats and all socks I must mend!
Now merino, now soy, now silly bamboo,
Now Brown Sheep, now Elann, now lovely Knit Picks!

“But think of the slippers I could knit with those things!”
And flew through the house like a demon with wings.
Were they under the tree? Were they on a high shelf?
Betty said, “Mom, get a hold of yourself.”



“The knitting will wait, you still have work to do here.
Your parents, yes them, will knock in less than a year.”
(Actually to be fair, they will knock in less than three days
But this rhyme scheme is getting a bit old, don’t you think?)

But the gauge swatch was calling my name on the wind,
“Ava, sweet Ava, just look once again.
I’m sure that the rosewoods are easy to find
If you want it enough, you’ll get out of your bind.”

My hands started shaking, the knitting DTs,
We’ve been through it before, without resorting to ease.
You all know the type: fun fur and quick knits to boot
Only later - “That looks likes shit,” your kids say with a hoot.

Veronica calmly sat down and tossed me a ball.
“Knit one, mom, purl two,” she began as a call.
My finger responded to her knitting commands
And I saw that a rib was forming under my hands.



I can do this, I thought, I can get through the day
And the yarn began to act in a magical way.
The tensions of the week that weighed heavy on my head
Took a pity on my soul and floated to bed.

So the scarf looked like crap and I frogged it right quick
I knew that in no time, I could leave it all up to St. Nick.
The hand knits will wait ‘til birthdays come right?
Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight.

* The swatches, which I dutifully knit this weekend, are from AllHemp6 for Eiffel (the first one) and Peru Luxury for an unknown sweater for which I need my head examined. Oh, Lola, there may not be enough schnapps for this one!

Purple Snowflakes

Ever compile a To Do list that just grows and grows and grows, and yet you still keep adding to it? I stopped today. If I added one more thing, one iota (a vocabulary word this week for my kids), the paper may have cried out in agony. That last little thing to do, probably something silly and insignificant, isn't really that pressing. Last week, Julia was gutsy enough to show photos of her house in action. Sometimes, I get that fake holiday spirit amidst the whirlwind of life and it is refreshing to see someone actually show the chaos.

Now that I am in the holiday spirit (only ten more days), here is a quick tour of what my holiday is like. The photos are there for those of you who think in pictures.



1) Our Christmas tree. Sure it is fake and a pre-lit strand of lights are burned out, but I treasure the ornaments on it more than anything. Betty's collection of Mary's Angels, Veronica's Mischievious Kittens, the Flyer's Star Trek and Batman , our university ornaments, and my what-ever-is-50%-off-at-Hallmark - love the disorder. Not so fond of the disorder in the dining room.

2) Yarn! Any excuse to splurge on yarn is my kind of holiday. I just got the All for Hemp 6 to make Eiffel and want to cast on so badly it kind of hurts.

3) Christmas cards. Granted I have been known to send out Valentine's cards instead, but I love reading the greetings and catching up with the letters.

4) Our frig. It has become a sort of catch-all for, well, everything. Postcard from Nick when he was in Cuba? My favorite photo of the Flyer with the girls circa 1992? Gus smiling in his carseat? Beaner and her brother? Really lame poetry? Just look on the frig.If you can't find it there, it can wait until Easter.

5) The ornament. Flip it over and it says 1972. That was the only Christmas with Clark. If this ornament ever breaks, there will never be enough glue to put my heart back together.

6) The pink tree. I admit it, I adore pink so a tree in this shade of Barbie Tart Pink is just my thing. Betty and Veronica dubbed it the knitting tree - hence the Noro "ornament" and yarn garland. Next year, proper knitted ornaments.

7) Joy. There isn't enough of it, people. I am guilty of it. Look into getting more joy.

8) The pets. This is Gilly; she has recently discovered that Livvie can't reach her under the tree. Smart kitty!

9) Cookie day. For the past several years, the girls and I have baked Christmas cookies. They wanted to add a gingerbread house to the mix this year, so we bought a tacky premade one and it turned out fab. They made the house, I stamped my cards. It was a win-win situation.

Enjoy the weekend! I have a feeling the real chaos has yet to begin.

Ava