Of Tea and Tea Cozies

My parents, both of whom worked shift work for years, have been ardent coffee drinkers for as long as I've known them.¹ Though I love the smell of coffee, I almost never drink it². Tea has always been my hot caffeinated beverage of choice. In my mother's family, it is customary to take tea after dinner, and being allowed to have tea after dinner waas a marker of being "grown up" for all of us grandchildren. After finishing the Girl Guide program, I spent two years in Pathfinders,³ where one girl was responsible for tea and snacks every meeting. No one ever remembered to bring milk (we were in a church basement) so I drank a lot of strong tea with stomach turning amounts of sugar in it.

As an adult, I drink lots of tea. One of the advantages to working in a university is that there are three separate Tim Hortons locations in my building, which makes it very easy to enjoy a cup. The disadvantage, of course, is that it makes it very easy to enjoy four cups in one day. (I do, occasionally, have eleven hour days up at the school.) I put a single cup coffee maker in my office last year and used it to heat water for me, which was also not helpful in the "restraining caffeine consumption to normal levels" department.

At home, we have an entire cupboard dedicated to tea. It's also got some hot chocolate and apple cider mix in it, but most of it is tea. I think we had 50 different kinds at last count. Some of it is Mat's, but most of it is mine. Strangely, for someone who owns this much tea, I do not own a nice teapot. I have a functional Pyrex one that looks more like a diner coffee pot, but it's much too large for my purposes, and it lacks character. I would really like to have a teapot with charm, and especially one that I could make sweet tea cozies for. ⁴

So, dear Reader, I must ask you: What kind of teapot do you have? Do you like it? What is the ideal teapot? What is the ideal tea cozy? Do you prefer one that fits on the pot, or one that covers it like a hat?

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¹ My mother occasionally likes to joke that the success of their early marriage was largely because they worked opposite shifts for a while, and thus never saw each other.
² Except when visiting my parents, because they have a Keurig and it's delightful. Also, cream is delicious.
³ Don't tell my mum, but I do actually regret not finishing the program, just like she said I would.
⁴ The current tea pot is roughly the same shape as a roll of toilet paper, so if I made a cozy for it, I'd adapt one of the sushi toilet roll cover patterns.

One Skein

I finally couldn't take it any more last night: I had to knit with something bigger than 2.75mm needles.¹ So I grabbed the leftovers from some mitts I made for a Christmas present last year, along with some gloriously large² needles, and cast on to make a swatch for an idea that's been floating around in my head.

I belong to a yarn of the month club, which means that I get a monthly package full of fibery deliciousness.³ The club in question is Three Irish Girls' Stash Menagerie, which I really like--it's all different and interesting yarn bases, dyed by one of the best indie dyers going. Sharon's business model for the club seems pretty optimal: every month you get a choice between two colours (variegated and semi-solid), and you can order as many skeins as you want. Unfortunately, I usually can't afford to step outside of the one skein/month that I've already paid for, so I am accumulating single skeins of lovely yarn at an alarming rate.⁴

The previews for the August yarns went up the other day, and I am just in love with Evangeline, the semi-solid option (photo from Three Irish Girls):

The yarn is a single-ply merino-silk blend that just glows. I've only used it once, to make the mittens mentioned above. I really want several skeins of this, but since I am still in the Summer of Unemployment, it simply isn't happening. Thus, I want to find something really special to do with this one skein. Once I started thinking about it, though, I realized that I actually want to do something special with all of my singleton skeins.

I started to wonder if I could design a project a month for my lovely yarns. Ideally, what I would like to do is have a pattern ready for each month's mailing, but I don't think that is feasible, since I don't own a lot of the yarns. I'd have no way to get things test knit in time. So I think that what I might do is design something every month, post the pattern as a work-in-progress, and work on building a more polished piece from there.

First up is a lacy shrug for the Evangeline. Thankfully I had nearly half a skein left over after the mittens, so I've actually been able to swatch in advance, and I can work on building a pattern from there.
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¹ It is well worth noting that I usually knit socks with 2.25mm needles, because my gauge is so loose.
² Which in this case means "5mm".
³ Sometimes actual Deliciousness, which is the name of one of the yarns (a 100% alpaca tweed)

⁴ Or one skein/month, which is not really that alarming.

Fascinated by Fascinators

Thanks to an intrepid reader, I've found a tutorial that, while not the one I had originally used¹, is close enough that I should be able to recreate my favourite bags without too much trouble (and hopefully lay in a supply for future gift giving. They are good bags for anyone, even if they're not knitters). They are excellent stash busting projects. Why do I have a fabric stash? I honestly don't know. I don't sew a lot, and certainly not enough to justify the amount of fabric that I own. I seem to have a knack for finding fabric stores just as they are closing or renovating, when everything is on sale.

I've been trying to figure out what to do with my hair for the wedding. I have the world's most boring hair. 98% of the time, it just sits on my head. Every once in a while, I will put it in a pony tail, but for the most part, what you see is what you get. I have no mad skillz in the hair department. To be fair, my hair itself is no help: it is very, very fine, and wavy. (I've been growing it out, so it's okay right now because the added length helps to weight it down and keep it from doing the various wacky things it likes to do when I keep it short.)

So what I've tentatively settled on is that I'll have it put up in a bun (excellent for hiding how pathetically little hair I have) and wear some kind of awesome fascinator.² The only problem is that most fascinators appear to cost an arm and a leg. The solution is obvious, of course: I should make one. I've sourced out various supply shops online, as I doubt I'll be able to find anything along those lines here, and once I head back to work in August I'll make an order and get cracking. I'm a bit nervous about the idea of sewing with feathers, but I think that I could, potentially, come up with something really interesting and unique.

Or just make a really big mess.

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¹ One of the finishing techniques is substantially different
² When mum was in Scotland last year for the Loch Ness Marathon, she kept running into people's weddings while touring around, so she has a whole bunch of pictures of some the awesome stuff the girls were wearing.

Blackbirds, lost tutorials, and grey days

It is a rainy day here (or it will be soon). It's the kind of day that feels a bit like Wallace Stevens's Thirteen Ways of Looking At A Blackbird:

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

Thunderstorms are due this afternoon and tonight, but for now it is just grey and damp. And I am waiting.

I've done some cleaning already, and only have the kitchen left to take care of. I thought I might reward myself by doing some sewing. (Friends both online and in town have been doing all kinds of insanely cute sewing lately, and there's nothing like a new craft to help you procrastinate on the things that you should be doing, like knitting the world's most boring man's knee sock.) The last time I had a sewing burst (just before Christmas) I cut out a bunch of lining fabric for some very cute square bottomed drawstring bags that I'd found a tutorial for online.



Unfortunately, seven months later I cannot find the bleeding tutorial again. My google fu has totally failed me here, and I am super sad. I still have one of the bags, so I can probably reverse engineer it from that, but I am lazy and would prefer just to find the one I used before. Today is the kind of day where I would like to make about twenty of these small project bags and just store them up. Small bag+ skein of yarn=instantly awesome gift.

I watched the Doomsday episode of Doctor Who last night, and was a bit ashamed that as Rose was telling the Doctor that she loved him, I kept being distracted by how awesome her handwarmers are, and the fact that I still have a skein of Three Irish Girls' Galenas Merino in Narcissa, which would be exactly the right colour to make those in...that said, it was a very solid episode, and I will confess to tearing up a bit at the end. I'm quite curious to see where the show goes from here.

Shades of Mediocrity

I attended Conspiracy of Three last night, which is a monthly meeting of writers from the area, who gather to read their works and drink. There are some really talented writers who attend, and others who are not so talented. Last night's crowd was actually pretty solid: even some of the writers whose work I don't normally care for brought work that was well written. The theme was "sex and/or animals," so I was quite surprised (since that combination is kind of a receipe for disaster).

I surprised myself by actually reading. I hadn't intended to, and didn't bring anything to read, but through the magic of wireless internet I was able to grab the rough copy of the story I've been working on the last few nights. There really is nothing like reading aloud to make you recognize all of the flaws and faults in your own writing; it will never sound quite as ridiculous as it does the first time you speak the words. Even though I don't know how much I like what I'm writing, I intend to finish it: I have written three (count 'em) short stories in the last six years, so simply the act of finishing will be gratifying enough on its own.

Not much else is new to report. My mum has been talking again about the possibility of going to Afghanistan. She figures that if she goes for three months, she'll make enough money to pay off the school debts of all three of us girls. I'm not sure how I feel about this. As she's gotten older, her desire to do good for others has increased, and I know that working in Afghanistan would make her feel like she was making a difference to someone.¹ That said, I'm really uncomfortable with the idea of my mum doing this to pay off my debt. My parents were already quite generous with helping to finance my education, and I've been making small but important headway on paying it off on my own. If she were doing it for herself, I'd support that.²


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¹ She has done medical work in South America previously, but her recent experiences there have left her feeling like she's not really making a difference to anyone.
² Sure, I'd worry about her constantly, but it would be her decision to go.

The Best Parts of Lonely

Every time I hear Owl City's "Fireflies" (which is relatively frequently, since it gets a lot of airplay up here), it makes me sad because I always have a moment of "Yay, new Postal Service...oh. Damn." It also makes me irritated, because one of the lyrics states "To ten million fireflies/ I'm weird because I hate goodbyes," which is just...stupid. Does anyone really like goodbyes?

I said goodbye to two things last night: David Lynch's Twin Peaks and my friend Sean. We watched the last five episodes of Twin Peaks, got some Indian take out, and had a pretty casual last evening. I got to try the True Blood energy drink, and it was delicious. Not $9/bottle delicious, but very tasty nonetheless. (I am a sucker for blood orange drinks. President's Choice makes one that is exactly what I think Orangina should taste like.) The end of Twin Peaks was quite interesting--uneven in a lot of ways, but also delightfully Lynchian. I still have a hard time imagining how people felt watching it when it happened, since it's totally unlike anything on television. (I also can't believe that the network allowed it to be aired in that form. They must have been so happy that it was over.)

Saying goodbye to Sean was a bit harder. We taught the second half of the Intro course together this past semester, and working with him has been the most fun that I've had in this job. We have a lot of fun outside of the classroom as well, and it's been good to have a friend in my department. (Not that my other other colleagues aren't friendly, but Sean and I are the only people under 35, so the dynamic is a bit different.) He's been enormously helpful in getting me to think through some of the decisions I have to make about my future as an academic.

At least it gives me an excuse to visit Ottawa. And he's promised me that when I come, he'll take me to a club that has an 80s night, and to the university library. (I will probably be on my own for the knitting stores, but that's okay.)

Speaking of knitting, I have little progress to report. The foot of sock #2 is determined to take forever, it seems, aided in part by the warm temperatures 'round these parts lately. Thankfully, the heatwave seems to have broken today: It's overcast and only 23 degrees, which means it should be excellent knitting weather. (Possibly excellent weather for watching the first season of Angel, as well.) I had contemplated doing some baking, but we will be headed out of town for the weekend (hopefully) and I don't want to make anything that won't get eaten before we go. I think that my new food for the week should be something baked, though. Perhaps some Martha Stewart Molton Lava Cakes.

Pontypool Changes Everything

One of my weird quirks as an adult is that I will watch movies that I own on DVD when they are on television. I don't know why I do this, but there are just some things that I have a hard time saying "no" to watching. Bruce MacDonald's Pontypool is one of those films for me. It's a strange little film: a zombie movie that takes place in a single room, inside a radio station in central Ontario. I don't want to give away the movie's twist, but suffice it to say that the story is something that appealed to me enormously. I highly recommend it if you can find a copy. It's not especially gory (there's a single scene that's bloody) but it is very tense and strange.

Speaking of tense and strange, I will be spending my afternoon and evening finishing up the remaining five episodes of Twin Peaks with a friend before he moves back to Ottawa. I'll be quite sad to see him go, even though it does give me a reason to visit Ottawa, which is one of my favourite cities in the world.

Also speaking of tense and strange, Mat and I watched Moon last night. I would highly recommend this one as well. It wasn't at all what I thought it would be, at least in terms of how the plot unfurled itself, but it was an interesting and thought provoking piece. And of course, it brings to mind one of the most important maxims in science fiction film: Never trust the robot. (Who is voiced by Kevin Spacey here.)

Gnocchi and sushi and knee socks, oh my

Remember back when I was doing that thing where I was going to try to make at least one new dish every week? Well, it didn't end up working out to be quite every week, but Mat and I have done a pretty good job of trying to do new things, and today I tried something that I've wanted to make for a long time: gnocchi. The idea of gnocchi has always really appealed to me, but the ones at the grocery store are always made with potato flakes, which seems...kind of icky to me.

I made mine with Yukon Gold potatoes¹, ricotta cheese, flour, and egg yolks. I paired them with an oven-roasted tomato sauce flavoured with onions, garlic, rosemary, and bacon. All in all, it was pretty tasty, although I do wish I had a potato ricer rather than a masher.²

The second kilt ho is coming along very slowly, but I have acquired some Big Love and Damages to keep me company as I move through it. The part that I'm on right now is the most boring part--once I hit the Eye of Partridge heel it will go much faster, I think.

Mat and I celebrated our sixth anniversary with a trip to the new sushi restaurant in town, which was quite fun. It was our first visit to "Sushi Island" and it was decent. It is not the best sushi that I've ever had, but the selection was decent, as was the service, and the price is decent for what you get. I had lots of the salmon sushi, which are my favourite, and Mat tried the Yellow Dragon roll, which has mango on top. It was a really nice way to spend the evening with him. We've both changed so much in the six years we've spent together, and it was good to take some to reflect upon the past that we share as well as what we want from our future.

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¹ Which, for those of you keeping score at home, were engineered at the University of Guelph, where I did my MA.
² I also discovered that we can add cooked potato to the list of vegetables that Bad Cat will eat.

Q From Bond, Not Star Trek

We are riding out the heat wave here in NBRC, though I don't think it's as bad as it could be. (Currently it's about 25, headed up to 30.) It is much warmer to the south. I am so happy not to be in Toronto right now, and very thankful that my lungs and respiratory system are healthy.

I have finished the first of the kilt socks. I've been reliably told that the single of kilt hose is "kilt ho" so I shall endeavour to refer to it as such. I can't wait to have both done. I want to knit other things very badly, but I know that if I let myself become distracted by other, more exciting knits, I will suffer from a truly epic case of second sock syndrome. It will not be good.

Which is too bad, because I've got my eye on Evelyn Clark's Shetland Triangle shawl for my mum, done in a lovely wool/mohair blend from Wellington Fibres. I've also got a scarf to test knit (my first knit in Kidsilk Haze and my first beaded lace, how exciting), to say nothing of poor mum's Rogue...which may end up being this year's Christmas gift as well as last's.

Saying goodbye

Sad times today--in a little over an hour, I'll be going with a friend to have her cat put down. Bing is a small but vocal black cat, who is quite fond of knitters, particularly when they act as warmers for any seat on which he might like to sit. The poor guy is seventeen, which is quite old for a cat, and his health has gone downhill in these last few months. He's stopped eating now, and dropped below 5 lbs. I don't envy Girl Tuesday the decision she's had to make, and I figure that it's the least I can do to go with her. God knows I wouldn't want to be alone if it was Bad Cat in the same position.

So if you have pets, make sure that you give them extra hugs and maybe a treat today, so that they know how much you love them.

To Marry Or Not To Marry

Whilst perusing the internets in hopes of finding some good readings for our ceremony (so as to avoid 1 Corinthians, which is beautiful, but also used by everyone) I came across Charles Darwin's list of pros and cons in answer to the question of "To Marry Or Not to Marry?" I've excerpted it here for you:

This is the question

Mary

Children — (if it Please God) —
Constant companion, (& friend in old age) who will feel interested in one, —
object to be beloved & played with. — —better than a dog anyhow. — Home,
& someone to take care of house — Charms of music & female chit-chat. —
These things good for one's health. — Forced to visit & receive relations
but terrible loss of time. —

W My God, it is intolerable to think of
spending ones whole life, like a neuter bee, working, working, & nothing
after all. — No, no won't do. — Imagine living all one's day solitarily in smoky
dirty London House. — Only picture to yourself a nice soft wife on a sofa with
good fire, & books & music perhaps — Compare this vision with the dingy
reality of Grt. Marlbro' St.

Marry — Marry — Marry Q.E.D.

Not
Mary

No children, (no second life), no one to care for one in old age.—
What is the use of working 'in' without sympathy from near & dear
friends—who are near & dear friends to the old, except relatives

Freedom to go where one liked — choice of Society & little of it. —
Conversation of clever men at clubs — Not forced to visit relatives, & to
bend in every trifle. — to have the expense & anxiety of children — perhaps
quarelling — Loss of time. — cannot read in the Evenings — fatness &
idleness — Anxiety & responsibility — less money for books &c — if many
children forced to gain one's bread. — (But then it is very bad for ones health
to work too much)

Mr. Darwin and I obviously think along the same lines.

If you have suggestions for readings that aren't 1 Corinithians, please feel free to send them my way. Mat has suggested the lyrics to There Is A Light That Never Goes Out but I'm not sure that "to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die" quite sets the right tone.

Fit to Flatter II

After writing my first Fit to Flatter post, I realized how much I wish I'd thought more about body type and fit before I'd started trying on wedding dresses. I didn't really have an idea of what I wanted before I started trying on dresses¹ and bridal magazine weren't much help--they were full of insipid articles like, "How To Get Your Man Involved"² and some really terrible photography.³

So my mother and Youngest came up to visit, and we went dress shopping. They made me promise in advance that I would try on anything that they asked me to try on, which lead to some pretty ugly dresses. It did, however, help me to learn a lot about how dresses fit and work, which I have no doubt will be totally useful in a future age where I get to wear ball gowns at least twice a week.

The first dress I tried on was this one, which I picked out myself:


It's not too bad, overall. The main problem here is the the way the ruching at the waist looks like horizontal stripes, which ultimately widens me at my narrowest part. It wouldn't be so bad if it stopped sooner--like at my waist. The way that it continues down over my hips is not cool, particularly when combined with the flower detail, which also adds weight.

The next one, picked out by mom, was much plainer:

Again, not too bad. The lines seem nice and simple, the bodice fits nicely, but again the ruching across my stomach does me no favours. The other problem with this dress is the back:



It's plain, but unfortunately here that equals boring, and also draws attention to my butt. And considering that my butt will be facing my guests during the ceremony, I figure that's something I'd like to avoid.



This one, aside from being decidedly too princessy for me, does great things for my waist. Unfortunately, those great things come at the cost of my bust, which looks enormous here, which is not helped by the fact that all of the beaded detailing is right across the bust. The waist on this one is funny too; I really don't like the way the gathers puff up when they start, as it interrupts the flow of the skirt.



I think that my posture in this dress says it all. The top makes me look flat, and the way that the waist--again with the ruching--connects to the skirt just widens me at all the points that I shouldn't be widened at.




This is my favourite of all the dresses that I didn't buy. Youngest made me try it on because she liked the flowers on the skirt.⁴ The bodice is fully boned, which I wound up liking far more than any woman who considers herself a feminist should really admit.⁵ The corset does all sorts of lovely things for my upper torso: it smoothes everything out and pushes everything up. When combined with the fullness of the skirt, it makes for a very pretty silhouette. The plainness of the top contrasts nicely with the frou-frou bottom, and it draws attention to my chest without making me look like I'm about to topple over. This was the most expensive dress I tried on, at $1200.

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¹ It is shocking, I know, that a woman in Western civilization hasn't spent every day of her 28 and 3/4 years on this earth thinking about her wedding dress.
² You can do this, apparently, by letting him take on such tasks as choosing the DJ or arranging for transportation, because men love music and cars, and can't be trusted with anything else.
³ Why yes, I do always wearing my wedding gown when I hang out on scaffolding. Obvs.
⁴ Naturally, they are my least favourite part of the dress.
⁵ But, oh, the lumbar support. Seriously.

Pretty Papers

The living room of Chez Skylark looks like a stationery factory at the moment, as I have spent the last few days of my life assembling my wedding invitations. I'm very pleased with how they have come out, but I certainly appreciate why most people just buy everything: it was a lot of bloody work. (Granted, doing it myself was infinitely cheaper than it would've been to have them made for us, but still, I wouldn't have been able to do it if a) I actually had a job during the summer months, and b) I hadn't had a considerable amount of help from my dad, Youngest, and Mat.)

I ordered the supplies from Cards and Pockets. We used the Signature Pocketfold kits in Milk Chocolate and Turquoise. (Our actual colours are a dark teal and espresso brown; these two came the closest out of everything I've seen in any invitation company.) I designed the layout for the invitation and the enclosures myself (with some inspiration and some clip art from One Heart Weddings) in Microsoft Publisher. My dad helped me print them (and cut/trim, which was a huge job). Youngest helped me sort them. I glued them all together, with some help from Mat. I cut the blue bands from matching cardstock, and used special modern sealing wax to put the Clan Gordon crest on the outside.

I also dug out my (t)rusty fountain pen to do the addressing. (Those who are receiving their invitations in person are getting proper calligraphy; unfortunately, I am not sufficiently masochistic to address all 80+ invitations in full calligraphy. I will probably do all the place cards by hand, though.)

According to the website, I have a mere 96 days left.

Fit to Flatter

I've been avidly reading Stash Knit Repeat's Fit to Flatter series over the last few weeks, and it's had an enormous impact on how I think about clothing in general (and of course my knitwear in specific). In fact, I would actually recommend the first four parts to the series to any woman, even if she doesn't knit; it's definitely worth reading it to learn not only about how you might dress but also why you might dress that way. The photographs that accompany it are fantastic, and cover a wide range of body shapes.

I've always had a hard time getting clothing to fit properly.¹ I have what Amy Herzog describes as a proportional figure, which is more traditionally known as an hourglass figure. This sounds wonderful, I know: it conjures up images of Marilyn Monroe and ladies in corsets. As much as it's supposed to be this ideal form of feminine beauty, I can assure you that it is not one that is easy to clothe. I have a 10" differential between my bust and my waist, and the same 10" again between my waist and my hips. It sounds awesome, and when I manage to choose clothing that fit well, it looks pretty awesome. Unfortunately, finding those clothes can be quite difficult. Shirts that are large enough to cover my bust without straining tends to be swimming at the waist. I also have a difficult time finding shirts that don't show off the goods, so to speak.² I have to wear almost exclusively low rise pants (which is not always the best choice in professional clothing) because most pants for my waist size don't have enough room for my hips, and if I buy them to fit my hips, they sag or bunch around the waist, which ruins the lines of my shirts. I'm hoping that some day soon, when I have both time and money, I can take a few sewing classes that will show me how to alter my clothes for a better fit.

There are lots of things to love about Mad Men, but one of the things that I love most is the women's fashions on the show. Obviously, lots has been written about Christina Hendricks' Joan Holloway and her curves, and I am very thankful that some more curve-friendly clothing has started to make its way into stores.

I'm due for a major culling in my closet in the next few months, and I'm hoping that the Fit to Flatter will help me to make good choices about what I should keep and what I should give away. Shopping this fall should be a whole new experience.

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¹ Well, since puberty, anyway.
² Teaching high school before returning to a university setting has made me excessively paranoid about how I present myself to my students.

Magical Mystery Weekend Report: Longer Than The Road That Stretches Out Ahead

[To set the tone for this entry, please click here to listen to Neil and Liam Finn's cover of the Beatles' "Two of Us"]

We set out on Friday, my mother and I, for a whirlwind tour through southern Ontario. We started out in Cookstown at the Outlet Mall, where I visited the Royal Doulton outlet and found a china pattern that I absolutely adored.¹ Naturally, this meant that the pattern had been discontinued, so I need to decide whether it would be worth buying up their remaining stock if I couldn't have the whole set. We had lunch at a small tea house, and I bought a new wallet.² After lunch, mum handed me an enveloped with an address to put into her GPS navigator, and we were off to Niagara-on-the-Lake, the heart of Ontario's wine country.

The drive was fairly uneventful, aside from my mother's occasional fits of anger at the GPS, which I have named "Matilda" since it spoke to us in an Australian accent. Niagara-on-the-Lake is beautiful. It's almost like an entirely different world from the part of Ontario that I live in: The climate is totally different (translation: much more temporate) and many of the houses down there have wooden panelling on the outside, and enormous windows. Many of them are also quite old. The bed and breakfast we stayed at was about 200 years old, and full of interesting things:

We spent some time at the shops downtown (including at COWS--check out the Edward Cowllen shirt). There was a lovely hat store, though mum didn't share my affection for trying on hats. Likely because she did not grow up on a diet of Harriet's Magic Hats.

The next day, after a ridiculously sumptuous breakfast, we set out to visit some of the wineries. We only hit two, Stonechurch and Palatine Hills, but it was quite the experience. I got to try ice wine for the first time, and it was far more delicious than I'd anticipated. I definitely want to go back--I'd like to visit Inniskillin, which makes my favourite white wine (a Late Autumn Riesling) as well as a few of the others.

From there we were off to Mennonite country to visit St. Jacobs and its famous farmers market. Unfortunately, we arrived fairly late in the day, but it was still wonderous to see all of the local produce and baked goods. I'll save my rant about the 100 mile diet for another day, but suffice it to say, again, that it's almost like a different world down there. It's only about 500 km away from North Bay, but the growing season is at least 2-3 weeks ahead of what it is here. We ate local peas and cherries. The yarn booth was a bit of a disappointment; the selection is usually much better.³

After a quiet night at a bed and breakfast in Elmira, we set forth again, passing through St. Jacobs, Guelph, Fergus, Orangeville, and Cookstown on our way back home. Unfortunately, nothing much was open on Sundays, so we didn't get to see any yarn stores. My mom encouraged me to take pictures out of the window of the car, and while it is not an optimal picture taking strategy, I did manage some fairly good snaps:

The only negative part to the whole weekend was that I lost my mobile phone, which I've only had for a few months. It has not turned up yet, so I've passed my number back to my old phone. I'm terribly disappointed, as a) I really liked my new phone, which was bright green and made out of corn-derived plastic, and b) there's no reason why I should have lost it. I am a fairly absentminded person at the best of times, and I've learned to compensate for that by using a variety of strategies. The best of these is that everything has its place; as long as I return things to that place, I always know where my stuff is. Unfortunately, I broke that rule by not returning the phone to my purse after using it, and I don't know where it's gotten off to now. I hope that it'll turn up.

All in all, a pretty good weekend with my best mom.
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¹ Royal Doulton Nightscape, in case you are wondering.
² One that finally holds all my 80 quadrillion cards.
³ Now that I actually have access to two yarn stores in town, as well as several within driving distance, I'm just not that impressed by Mission Falls cotton anymore.

Devil's Haircut

Yes, I know that I owe you an entry. Several entries, truth be told. Unfortunately, I am flat out exhausted right now, and of no sound mind nor body to put together something coherent. Instead, I will leave you with this little gem that I found on the memory card for my camera. It's from the Crowded House concert that Dad and I went to at the Danforth Music Hall last year. (Seventh row seats. Squee.)

Mom's Magical Mystery Tour

Longtime readers of the blog (as well as those of you who know me in the flesh) will be familiar with the exploits of my mother. My mother is awesome, but she might also be totally nuts. While I was home last weekend, she let me know that she needed me to come back this weekend to whisk me off on an adventure--and not just any adventure. A surprise adventure. A surprise adventure that I still know nothing about, even though I'm back at my parents' house and we're setting forth tomorrow. In short: insane but awesome.

The first part of the surprise was revealed tonight: I received an envelope with a map in it. The map took me to the house of a girl I went to high school with, who runs a small salon out of her house. I now have lovely, well -shaped, iridescent fingernails, and bright, cheerfully orange toenails. My hands and feet are delightfully soft, and I feel very relaxed.

I'm the oldest of three girls, as you've likely surmised.¹ According to my dad, my mother is having severe moments of "My baby is getting maaaaaarried," so she has planned this weekend as a special mommy-daughter weekend that will let us spend some time together before I get married. It's definitely a very sweet thought on my mother's part. I have absolutely no idea what we are doing tomorrow, but I do have a couple of possible ideas:

1. Winery tour of Niagara region²
2. Trip to Stratford for Shakespeare
3. Trip to Toronto for shopping and theatre³
4. Yarn crawl of southern Ontario
5. Tea crawl of souther Ontario
6. Visit to an alpaca farm to help in alpaca shearing⁴
7. Spa day⁵

I'm not sure if I'll have any internet access while I'm gone, but I'm definitely bringing the camera. Stayed tuned for the big reveal!

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¹ It is, indeed, why I refer to my sisters as Middle and Youngest.

² Kind of have my fingers crossed for this one, I'm not going to lie.

³ In which case, I really hope it's Jersey Boys

⁴ It's my imaginary magical mystery tour, and I'll shear alpacas if I want to, okay?

⁵ Given that I've already had my hands and feet done, this seems less likely.

Get in the car, boy!

I swatched and cast on a pair of kilt hose for my love today. We were home briefly over the weekend to visit parents and get wedding stuff done, which included taking the men for kilt fittings. I'd been putting off starting the project for a variety of reasons--finishing some baby knits, working on my mom's Rogue, the fact that no one wants to make knee socks for a man--but I've realized that there isn't really all that much time left and that I needed to get moving, especially since I know that this is the type of project that I will stall out on. This way, I should have room to put the socks down when the k4p1 ribbing gets exhausting, and still finish them in time for the wedding. I've opted for the John Anderson's Kilt Hose pattern, though I've been told it's not especially well-written. I really like the cable that runs down the side.

I'll be home again later this week it seems; my mother is whisking me off on an adventure that I currently know nothing about. I've been told to bring comfortable shoes, a camera, and a large bag. It should be pretty exciting. I have a couple of ideas about the things that I think it might be, and if it's any one of them it will be exceptionally cool. It will be good to spend time with my crazy mother, at any rate, and to put the DSLR to good use.

I am mid-way through the second season of Twin Peaks now, well past what I'm assured is the point at which it ceases to make sense. I've really enjoyed it so far: it's been fascinating to watch Lynch try to work within television as a medium, and his Freudian tendencies are just so delightfully transparent here. It's amazing to me that so few people from the show went on to become well known, as a lot of the performances are actually quite endearing. Apparently the center cannot hold and everything will collapse upon itself shortly, but it's been good times so far, not least because I've been watching it with a friend, which forces a limit on my desire to binge on good tv. Left to my own devices, I'd probably have finished Twin Peaks in two days.

I'm also finally sitting down to give my full attention to Doctor Who. Space has started showing it starting with the Christopher Eccleston episodes. It was my good fortune to be awake with insomnia the night that it was starting, and I've been enjoying an episode a day ever since. I like Eccleston a lot, although I do have moments when I can't stop myself from muttering, "F---ing bin-bag" under my breath. I have a similar problem with Michael Gambon as Dumbledore--I can't stop myself from yelling, "Get in the car, boy!" at least four time every time I watch one of his Harry Potter films.

It Was Ten Years Ago Today

Ten years ago today I created my first blog. It was at a site called diaryland.com, which still exists, and I think that I did it because some of my friends from the Sloan message board had done it, and I thought that it sounded like a cool idea. I also thought that it wouldn't last: all previous attempts at keeping any kind of written record of my life had failed. The longest of any of my other efforts was three months--the three months that I spent in France when I was fifteen, where I wrote almost every day because I had nothing else to do most of the time.

My life has changed a lot in ten years. When I first started blogging, I was still in high school, and had no idea that I had six+ years of university ahead of me. I had gone on only a single date, and I had never been kissed. I'd never broken someone's heart, nor had mine broken. Of the three women who will be standing up with me at my wedding in October (that aren't related to me), I had only met one of them: we met in passing at a party when she was dating one of my friends. She wore a beautiful striped wool sweater, but I didn't like her very much--she seemed very haughty. I had not yet started working at The Historic Site Which Shall Not Be Named. I wanted to be a high school teacher. I had red hair, cut in a very bland, chin length bob. I didn't think of myself as a feminist. I'd never seen Neil Finn nor Crowded House in concert. I'd never been to Scotland, nor British Columbia. I'd never given a lecture to 200 people--hell, I could scarcely bring myself to ask for help in a store. I'd never directed a play, or written for a newspaper. I'd only read The Handmaid's Tale three or so times. ICQ was my main form of chat. I didn't know how to drive. I hadn't knit since I was seven or eight. There were still two more Star Wars movies to come (and I hadn't lost all hope that the remaining two wouldn't suck).

Here's a quotation from that first blog entry:

well, this is my first "official" entry, the maiden voyage of this, so to speak. god only knows that I suck beyond words at actually keeping written records of my life. which I suppose is unusual considering how much time I spend over-analyzing every last detail of my life like the english geek that I am. but again, I digress, and on some level I hope that people will be interested in reading what I have to say.

I'm at a weird time in my life right now. The school year has two short weeks left (two short weeks in which I need to do an entire history independent study course...stupid me) and I can't believe that high school will be over, forever. I'm both sad and glad about it; I have a lot of memories I wouldn't trade for the world but I also have a lot of regrets about various things. Though certainly nothing I can't live with. I'm going to be cutting a lot of ties in the next few months and I'm worried about whether or not I can handle it all.

I was apparently not really into proper capitalization at that time, but I did (and I do) like my semi-colons.

Reading over some of the old entries has been quite interesting. That blog only lasted for about four years; the last two years overlapped with this blog, back when it used to be entirely academic. I didn't know it at the time, of course, but the four years of the other blog are the four years that I dated my other boyfriends; I made the transition here a permanent one at around the same time that Mat and I started seeing each other. The early entries are total crap: high school is over, blah blah blah sadcakes; I have a lot of work to do; I'm looking forward to university but really sad at the same time. I do develop a narrative voice surprisingly early, though. Not necessarily a voice that I'm all that proud of, mind you, but one that's relatively clear.

It's also interesting to look back over those entries and try to remember the things that I didn't write about. There are often references to things that happened that I simply have no recollection of, and sometimes there's even subtext about things that I didn't realize was happening at the time. If I only knew then what I know now...

I don't know where I'll be ten years from now. I'd be pretty surprised if I was still blogging--but then, if you'd told me ten years ago that I'd be writing this entry today, I wouldn't have believed you. So here's to the next ten years: may they be as varied and as educational as the last ten.

Academic Freedoms

Strange things are afoot at my beloved tiny university. I've already discussed the whole honorary degree debacle at length, but it just keeps getting stranger and stranger. The university quietly released a new policy this morning on protests, disruptions, and demonstrations on campus; this policy outlines the administration's new policy on how to deal with potentially "disruptive" behaviour. The policy itself is quite brief, so I'd recommend reading it if you're interested. Essentially, the university is giving itself the right to shut down demonstrations, protests, and any other behaviours that it deems "disruptive" or not "consistent with the University's mission." (I think it means "mission statement," but this policy is poorly written on many levels.)


The policy claims that its reach is applicable "where there is a material disruption of, or interference with, instructional activities, other University business and campus events." There are two curious things about this: first, the policy's title implies it only addresses "Public Events", which instructional activities are clearly not; second, the phrase "material disruption" is vague. What is a material disruption as opposed to other kinds of disruption? Material to me implies something physical or tangible. My assumption is reinforced by the third type of improper action: "material interference free entry to or exit from the university," which absolutely makes sense, but again begs the question of "what is a material disruption?"

The more troubling part of the policy is the second part of the guidelines:

2. Demonstrations are limited to appropriate areas or public forums that do not
include, among other locations, faculty and administrative offices, classrooms
and other instructional facilities. The University will designate areas for
speeches and demonstrations. These areas will be designated as "Free Expression
Areas". Use of these areas for speaking, demonstrating and other forms of
expression will be scheduled through the Vice-President, Academic and Research
Office to best accommodate all interested users.

The first thing that jumps out at me is the use of the term "Free Expression Areas," which I find problematic for two reasons: first, it differs from the "Free Speech Areas" identified in the document's title¹, and second, the use of a term like "Free Expression Areas" implies that all areas not designated as such are thus not places of free expression? That troubles me greatly.² It is absolutely an attack on academic freedom, but it is also an attack on personal freedoms. It is also, in my opinion, a violation of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

There has been quite a lot of commentary on the policy through the school email, all of it excellent. The best response, I think, is the one that points out the policy itself is totally unnecessary, since the things that it outlines as "improper actions" are actually considered, you know, offences under Canadian law. It's also worth noting that this move to "Free Expression Areas" parallels what's being done for the upcoming G8 summit in Huntsville, scarcely 150 kilometres from our doorsteps. Interestingly, the administration has responded

I know that not everyone shares my ire at the idea of giving Harris anything more prestigious than a membership in the IGA cookie club, and that's fine. I'm choosing to protest the degree by not attending the ceremony.³ I think--I hope--I believe, though, that the policy as outlined is not something that anyone should be in favour of, for a variety of reasons. Is a policy necessary? Perhaps--but not this policy. It's quite telling that the VP-AR's office responded to the concerns by saying that the policy "needs work" and its current form does lend itself to authoritarian reading. He did, however, agree with the numerous recommendations to refer the policy to the Academic Senate.⁴

Needless to say, it will be interesting to see how this plays out.

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¹ See what I mean about the quality of the writing?
² A lot of the response to the policy thus far has focused on ideas about what people feel the roles of the university and of a university education are, in terms of critical thinking and critical discourse. I'm not quite convinced that this is the role of a university education any more, but that is another entry for another time.
³ This is a change from when I wrote "The Subtle Knife": while it's true that I probably would skip the APS grad, I now feel strongly enough about this whole thing that I want to emphasize that my non-attendance is out of principle, not laziness.
⁴ I actually like the VP-AR. I don't agree with all of his decisions, obviously, and I don't think that he spends enough time trying to understand our university as distinct from other schools in the province, but I think that he could/would be a good administrator somewhere else.