working for the weekend

I've been taping both Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Voyager on the PVR for the last several months, and the series of TNG went full circle last week. Unfortunately, somehow the PVR managed to tape only Part I of the finale. Colour me disappointed.

The clock is ticking on my return to work. We have a late start this year because of where our Labour Day falls, and things don't start in earnest until the 14th of September, so I have been avoiding accepting that my life will be very, very busy for the next few months. The course I usually teach has been split from a full year course to two half year courses, which dictates a much more frenetic pace to the semester. I also have approximately 165 students. It's going to be a lot of marking this year, that's for sure.

I'm helping an old roommate move in with his fiance today, and a friend from teacher's college is swinging by tonight. It is a cold, wet, and potentially miserable day here. If it weren't raining, I'd take my new February Lady out for its inaugral wearing. I made an Urchin beret yesterday out of a Fleece Artist kit I had kicking around in my stash. I held a strand of a thick and thin yarn with a mohair-wool-silk boucle, and it looks gorgeous. Exactly what I needed for my new grey wool coat. I have plans for another Urchin in a few weeks. I love patterns that knit up in a day.

Cat Beast

I have determined that the reason why I am so fond of How I Met Your Mother is that it is produced by the writers/producers of my beloved Clone High. I'm also into the third season of Buffy, which is a much better show than previously expected, although it does leave me feeling a little like Joss Whedon just keeps writing the same show again, pitting the characters in different settings. The parallels to Firefly are fun, but disappointing.

Basically, I want to be watching Battlestar Galactica again for the first time, and am always going to be disappointed that I'm not.

world turning

Everything is a whirlwind. This weekend featured a quick trip to visit my parents, who had purchased concert tickets for the whole family to go see Great Big Sea down in Toronto. It's kind of nice to go to shows with my dad, who is of an age now where he doesn't see the point in having crappy seats, and is always willing to pay for better seats. The last time we saw Great Big Sea, back in November, we had front row seats (due to some Ticketbastard stalking on Dad's part). The seats weren't that good this time, but it was a good show.

I also got to do some shopping with my mum, including a trip to the yarn store in Barrie to check out their pre-fall inventory sale. The next thing I knew, I had eight balls of Sublime Organic Merino DK (how could I say no to that, at $2/ball?) and four skeins of Berroco's Peruvia Quick ($5/hank). The Merino DK honestly feels closer to a worsted than a DK to me, so I'm anxious to see how it knits up.

I was also able to pick up some new clothes for work. I've lost about 25 lbs. in the last nine months, and none of my old clothes fit properly anymore. It will take a while to build up a wardrobe that actually fits the way it's supposed to, but I've at least made a dent in it.

maybe I'm amazed

I had an entire post written about the wedding I attended this weekend, but Blogger managed to both eat the post AND the draft. Bollocks.

Thus, I will leave you with this, since I can't recreated the entire thing:

aaron + jess // a short film about us from stillmotion on Vimeo.

In Conversation

[While watching So You THink You Can Dance Canada, we see a dancer use a very poor cover of Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes"]

Me: You know, I haven't entirely given up on "In Your Eyes" as a wedding song.

Fiance: Really?

Me: Yeah. It's the whole "In your eyes/ I see the doorway to a thousand churchs" line. It's gorgeous.

Fiance: I think we're avoiding the real issue here.

Me: We are?

Fiance: Yes. Why don't we just accept the obvious?

Me: The obvious?

Fiance: Our wedding song is Distant Sun.

Me: It is? It is. It is! How did I not know this?

Fiance: You're dumb. I think we'd talked about a few months ago but decided against it for some reason.

Me: I don't remember what those reasons were, so obviously they weren't very good reasons.

Fiance: Agreed.

Me: Distant Sun is pretty much my favourite song ever.

Fiance: I know.

Lo! The Flat Hills of My Homeland

Scotland has been on my mind these last few days. I'm not really sure why this has come up now, exactly, although we are coming up on the sixth anniversary of the last time that I went.

I want to go back so bad I can almost taste it. I want to revisit many of the things that I did see, and I want to bring Mat with me so that I can show him these things and these places, so that he can understand where my family comes from. His family is French-Canadian (although franco-ontarienne and not quebecoise) and has been in Canada for many generations--so many so that no one really knows (or cares) how long. My dad, along with his parents and his sister, came to Ontario in the late 1950s; they travelled around a fair bit because my grandfather was an electrician for the Post Office (I think--I will have to double check that with my dad) but our family is from Dunfermline, in Fife initially. My great-great grandfather on my mother's side was from Glasgow (the Gallowgate to be precise) and came to Canada as a Barnardo Boy--orphans that were rounded up and farmed out to the colonies as domestic labour. My g-g grandfather was treated well by the family that got him, from what we can tell, which was not typical for many of these children.

I also want to see the things that I didn't see: Campbelton, in the south, where my dad was born; the pub my dad's grandfather owned; the Isle of Skye; the north; more of Charles Rennie MacIntosh's work; woolen mills.

My parents went last summer--my dad for the first time since he was 16, and my mum for the first time. They did a two week driving tour and saw more of the country than Mila and I did. My mum loved it so much that she's going back for ten days this fall. She and her sister are travelling to Loch Ness to run in a marathon (or a 5K in my mum's case) and then doing more sightseeing.

There is a knitting camp in Stirling next August, and I would love to go to that. Stirling was my second favourite place (the first being Dunfermline, where I got to spend the day with two of my great-aunts and eat my own weight in Scottish food) that Mila and I visited while we were there. The castle is wonderful, and the town is quite nice, too. We had lunch at a little pub, and Mila didn't know what Yorkshire Pudding was, so she gave her share to me (and regretted it later when she saw how awesome it was).

Unfortunately, it looks like I'm getting married next September, and all of my spare time and money for the next little bit is going to get funneled into that. I reckon it would probably cost me about $2000 Canadian to do two weeks in Scotland, and that's just not viable.

Maybe in a few years. I hope.

A Tidy Mind in A Tidy House

My office, aka the craft room, has been looking rather like some sort of yarn storm had hit it: There were project ends everywhere, uncatalogued yarn, and even a few sad, abandoned projects. So I did the only thing that someone who doesn't want to do the dishes could do: I cleaned my office.

I reorganized my plastic drawer sets so that all of my fabric was in one (and filled up an empty banker's box with more fabric). I then filled two drawers with sock yarn, and two more with worsted weight yarn. (That might seem like a lot of yarn to you. I assure you, it is not. It does not, for example, include the yarn in my giant plastic bin, the yarn that is stored in the three duvet bags on top of the wooden shelves, the bag of novelty yarns that people keep gifting me with, the aforementioned abandoned projects, or any of the yarn that is currently downstairs.)

You can actually see the floor now. I guess that means I should do the dishes.

Tonight is the finale of my one reality TV show guilty please, So You Think You Can Dance. I'm having a hard time caring much--it's been a really lacklustre season compared to previous showings. I'll still watch the finale and results show tonight and tomorrow, but I'm certainly not invested in this crop of dancers. Hopefully SYTYCD: Canada will be a better showing this fall.

I've finished my shawl for the wedding next weekend, and it has blocked out gorgeously. I made it bigger than the pattern had called for, and was terrified that I was going to run out of yarn--so much so that while I was visiting my parents on the weekend, I returned to the Purple Sock and miraculously found a second skein of the same colour. (It's Fleece Artist, so a second skein was not a guarantee.) Naturally, after I found one, I was able to finish the shawl with the yarn I had in the first place. Sadly, I still can't find my camera, so I can't even take a picture of the shawl in all its glory.

Perhaps I should go have a look for it.

Going to the Chapel

If you're interested in all in weddings, particulary in their early 21st century formation, this interview from IndieBride is a fascinating read. In it, Elise Mac Adam interviews Rebecca Mead on her book One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding.

We've just started planning for next year's extravaganza and it's already crazy. There are so many pitfalls that I'd like to avoid, and it just won't be possible to do so. The first one, of course, is the guest list. Already full of awkward. Not much we can do right now but ride out the storm.

So Say We All

As per usual, I'm several months behind everyone else. We finally finished Season 4.5 of Battlestar Galactica tonight. The last few episodes were so well written. The final episode got a bit lazy, writing wise; I liked it well enough, and I accept that when you're telling a story this epic, that some threads don't get woven in just because of the sheer scope of the thing (see also: X-files), but it felt weak. The Six and Baltar bits in particular bugged me: it was unnecessary and undervalued the audience's intelligence.

There's so much else to love about it, though. I don't know that there is anything else on TV that even begins to compare to it (sci-fi or otherwise). To me, the most compelling part of the show is its characters: you come to love those you hate in the beginning, but not because they have changed. Instead, you change as a viewer/reader (not unlike George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire). Awesome.

I'll write more once I've had a chance to digest a bit more. I want to rewatch the last few episodes so I can think through what it all means.

Hey lucky you, lucky me...

My parents recently returned from a fortnight in our smallest province, Prince Edward Island. While there, they did a number of very awesome things (of which they took very awesome pictures):



They also visited two wool mills. The first, Belfast Mini Mills, had a tearoom (with fresh cinnamon buns, which shut down any objections my father had to spending lots of time there). They got to see a variety of fibre animals and how their fibre is processed, including quivit (which my mum was quite taken by), and how the leftovers could be made into felt. Mum bought some really nice aran yarns there.

They also went to MacAusland Woolen Mills, which makes yarn and weaves blankets. Here mum got a baker's dozen of yarns there, which she had shipped home along with two wool blankets.

"How do you work with yarn in skeins?" she asked while she was on the island. "I tried to wind one off my feet in the car today and it didn't go so well. Your dad had to keep driving so I could finish."

My mum had never seen the ballwinder and swift before, so when I brought it home this weekend, she was amazed. By yesterday afternoon, she'd wound more than 30 hanks of yarn into balls.

I think my mom is a Knitter again.

I tried to go camping on the weekend, but the weather put an end to that. I can think of few things quite as miserable as being damp...and when dampness combines with torrential downpours, nothing really goes very well. Particularly if you haven't eaten dinner yet.

Thankfully the last few days have been reasonably dry, as I've been doing some babysitting for some of my colleagues. I took care of the baby (who is now one) for part of June, and then his family went to Australia/NZ for a few weeks. I'm looking in on him this week to help out his parents (as I teach with both of them for first term). He is a lovely, happy, redhaired baby--as his mum has taught a few courses on Harry Potter, I made him a Weasley Sweater when he was born. (He's worn it on a few of the cooler days that I've babysat, and I must say that it's a relief to know that one's gifts are actually used.) Much to my surprise, he remembered me, and more than that, was quite happy to see me. It hasn't been the awakening of my biological clock that everyone else seems to think it should be, but it has been nice.

I'm headed to my parents' this weekend for a family reunion (not mine). The wedding shawl is coming along, although I'm terrified that I won't have enough to finish it properly. I really, really hope I won't have to rip back, but I'm almost 90% sure that I will have to. The other alternative is to finish it with a different yarn, but I can't decide if I like the way that looks or not.

As a final note: Battlestar Galactica 4.5 came out on DVD this week. I only have seven episodes left, and it somehow just keeps getting better and better.

unlaced

I have a confession to make.

I love knitting lace. I love everything about it: the yummy yarns (luxury fibres are so much more affordable at this weight), the patterns, the final products, and the sense of satisfaction you get from working on a project where you can see the results so tangibly.

I'm currently working on Evelyn A. Clark's Heartland Lace Shawl. It's my second of her patterns (the first being the Swallowtail Shawl) and I cannot praise the clean, well written nature of her work enough. I'm working in Fleece Artist's Woolie Silk 2-ply in the Silver colourway, and the shawl will be a companion to my bridesmaid's dress for the wedding of my friends Jessica and Aaron. The wedding is August 15th, so I'll need to have it finished for about the tenth so that I can block it properly on the blocking wires that I just ordered from KnitPicks.

How I Spent Canad Day

Happy Canada Day!

I drew a map of Canada--Oh! Canada--
with your face sketched on it twice.
You are in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet.
--Joni Mitchell

So the only reasonable thing to do on your country's national holiday--particularly on a day that is grey, overcast, and unlikely to become appropriately sunny and hot--is to make yourself a Canada Day playlist. Of course, if you're a nerd like me, you might call Canada Day Dominion Day, since it marks that time when some of us (Ontario, Quebec, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick) got our shit together and decided to become the Dominion of Canada, as distinct from England.



I'm gonna start with this song and see where it takes me. Check out the results on blip.fm at RadioFreeRhiannon

frogging back

I've been having some problems with numbness in one of my arms, which has seriously cut down on my knitting time. I did no actual knitting for almost ten days. Not fun. (The 30-35 degree heat was another factor in the non-knitting.) I always forget how important of a stress management tool it is for me until I can't or don't knit for a while. Yesterday I decided to take matters back into my own hands and worked doggedly on a pair of Craic socks. Lovely (if challenging) pattern, and the product was lovely too...until I decided to try on the six inches I'd knit so far and couldn't fit the bloody thing over my foot.

I had no choice but to frog. Sure, I could've offered the socks to someone else, with smaller feet, but this is a) my Handmaiden Casbah, which is about the most luxurious sock yarn I own, with its 10% cashmere, and b) it's one of those patterns that only another knitter could really appreciate--and I am selfish enough to want to spend those hours of valuable knitting time on myself.

Since then, I've recast on for the Blackrose pattern from Knitty, and it seems to be working out much better.

Passchendaele premiered on the satellite tonight. I've been wanting to see it since it was in theatres, but couldn't quite sack it together at the time to do so. I fully expected to be quite happy with it--Canadian history, war movies, Paul Gross writing/directing/acting--but unfortunately the whole wasn't quite the sum of its parts. A friend had told me that it was superb except for the last fifteen minutes, and he was mostly right. I wouldn't call it superb so much as very, very good, but those last fifteen minutes are brutal. I want more from Paul Gross; I admire him and his work very much, and I think that what he does for Canada and Canadian film is so important...but this just didn't work for me.

In other news, there is a new yarn store in North Bay. I will write more about it later.

Your Ex-Lover Is Dead

Or, You're So Vain, You Probably Think This Post Is About You

Quick question for you, Gentle Reader. Are you friends with your exes? Is it possible to be friends with them? Do you want to be friends with them? What kinds of friendships do you have?

I haven't had many relationships, so my pool of experience here is pretty small. I've also been the instigator of the break ups in both cases, which I imagine alters my subjectivity on the matter. I think the answers to the questions above depend on a lot of things: The characters of the people involved; the length and depth of the relationship; the terms on which the relationship is ended. For me, these factors have always lead me to a single conclusion: friendship is not an option. I'm an intense person in a relationship, and I genuinely believe that after a certain point, you can't unring a bell: the possibility of friendship is, by necessity, gone.

Unfortunately, the exes don't always see it that way. "Why must it be awkward between us? Why don't we have anything to say to each other?" one asked me last weekend. Sadly, I was sober at the time, and was unable to indulge in a drunken tirade that would have put paid to such idiocy once and for all. As this conversation took place in a public place (a mutual friend's wedding reception), I didn't say any of the things that I wanted to say, which would have included the following statements:

• We are not friends because I don't actually like you
• It's awkward because making small talk with people you don't like is awkward
• the details of my personal life are none of your business
• Don't hug me and pretend to be happy that I'm engaged
• We can't be friends because I haven't forgiven you for the way you treated me while we were dating
• We can't be friends because I haven't forgiven myself for letting you treat me that way
• What possible benefit could there be to anything beyond being superficially polite?
• Also, IT'S BEEN SEVEN YEARS

Thankfully, this was the last of our mutual friends to get married, so our paths shouldn't cross again for some time. If we do, though, I've promised myself that I will explain the above points to him, calmly and firmly, and continue to maintain my distance.

In advance of Father's Day

Assuming that my plans for the weekend will likely prevent me from posting tomorrow, I wanted to get this posted today. I've watched High Fidelity twice in the last week (in shameful, US network censored versions) which has caused me to make a number of All Time Top Five lists in my head. I'm quite pleased with this one--and I can't think of anyone I'd rather make Top Five Lists for than my dad.

The All Time Top Five Songs for My Dad (Father's Day edition)

5. Rod Stewart - You're In My Heart: When my dad retired from the police force, he gave a really touching tribute to my mother. Being the wife of a police officer wasn't easy (particularly for someone who had to balance her own career as a nurse against the demands of a province-wide force), and the early years of their marriage might have broken up a lesser couple. He used part of this song in his speech.

4. Crosby Stills Nash & Young - Teach Your Children: One of my dad's favourites to play on the guitar: "Don't you ever ask them why/ if they told you, you would cry/ so just look at them and sigh/ and know they love you."

3. The Beatles - If I Fell: The Beatles are, of course, my dad's favourite band. This is his favourite Beatles song, near as I can tell--can you ever pick just one favourite song by your favourite band? I'm always kind of surprised by this one--it's an easy one to forget, I think, in term of the Beatles' overall oeuvre, but it is a good one.

2. The Animals - House of the Rising Sun: This song was the first 45 single that my dad ever bought, launching him on a music collecting career that's spanned about 40 years and several different media. At last count his CD collection comprised about 2500 volumes. My mom bought him an 8 gig iPod touch for his birthday in April, and he's already filled it.

1. Rod Stewart - Maggie May: His favourite of all his favourite songs. Need I say more?

Happy Father's Day, Dad! I hope you like your Darth Vader card. It beat out the Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own card by a very small margin. (And if the Tom Hanks one had said "Avoid the clap, Jimmy Dugan" instead of "There's no crying in baseball", it would've lost.)

left and leaving

My father was in town briefly yesterday, and he came over to check out the new guitar. He agreed with my assessment that it was in good condition, saying that it looked to him like it had hardly been played. He then tuned it for me, so I am playing around with it a little tonight.

It's been years since I've tried to pretend like I could learn to play guitar. I have no rhythm, and no particular musical talent. Strangely, my rhythm has gotten better as I've gotten older. While I'd never say that I'm good at Rock Band or GUitar Hero, my performances there aren't quite as EPIC FAIL as they once were.

Back in high school I used to spend a lot of time teaching myself bits and pieces of songs from the Oh Canada Tab Archive. The archive is still there, though it looks like it hasn't been updated in about 8 or 9 years. It is literally like living in 1999 again. Which manages to be awesome but sad.

Though sometimes I feel out of step with my generation, I'm glad that I wasn't born younger. I would've been an emo scene kid--one of the worst kind.

after the pity party

Thank you for bearing with me through last week's efforts at throwing myself a pity party. I'm working hard on keeping busy, at least until I think of another plan. Mat bought me a secondhand guitar last week, so that should help. Or at least eat into my knitting time.

My sort of-LYS, Sheepstrings, is closing. I'm not terribly surprised by this announcement, but am still sad. Girl Tuesday and I drove down on Saturday to visit the closing sale, but I didn't buy much. Hard to justify it with the looming house repairs. There was some remaining Mirasol Sulka for $4/skein, which was irrestible, but that was pretty much it.

Being responsible sucks. But I know it will pay off in the long run.

Against Despair

I don't like blogging when things are bad. Not that things need to be sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows for this, but I've started to realize that sometimes it's better simply not to acknowledge some of the negative aspects of life. I'm a person who dwells on things, and sometimes writing them out makes them real.

Thus, the radio silence around here as of late.

Things could be worse. *knocks wood* I have an unfortunate habit of manifesting my mental and emotional stresses with physical symptoms. My left arm went numb for about six days last week. It was very strange, and very uncomfortable. I couldn't knit (or do any number of other things)...and since knitting is my stress buster of choice, the feeling just kept perpetuating itself.

This time of year is always hard for me. I just don't know what to do with myself, and my end of year aimlessness is combining with my fear/anxiety (most of which is house related this year) to make me listless. I could accomplish so much right now, and I simply...have not.

Things still aren't great, but I'll survive.

I don't have any other choice.