I am undertaking an ambitious amount of knitting for Xmas this year. How is that different from the past five years? Well, this year, there are a couple of sweaters in the mix. Yes, sweaters. No, I am not crazy. I finished one of them last night, along with two scarves that had been languishing on the needles. I took a fifteen minute break then started another scarf. I have two months to make two sweaters, three hats, four scarves, and a cushion. I knit on the train, I knit in front of the television, I knit all the time. If I could, I would knit at work.
Fortunately, there is a sale on at Loopy, my lunch hour LYS. It's a brisk walk from the office or a short cab ride. Of course, I did not buy anything that was on sale. I went there on Wednesday to pick up some yarn for the cushion, but underestimated the size of the pillow form. So, I had to go back and get more yarn yesterday. I ended up buying an entire mill pack of the yarn in question, a green wool yarn that looks remarkably like a cotton yarn that I love. Except it's wool, so it's a stable fiber. So, I'm going to remake the disastrous cotton cardigan in wool. Matching cushion and sweater. Wearing the sweater around the cushion would be a bit awkward, so I'll have to plan accordingly. Besides, I can't knit anything for myself until after Xmas.

A couple of unrelated stories about karma:
I am quickly becoming a Lush addict. Their store is dangerously close to my office. On Thursday, I was killing time before I had to clock in and stopped buy to see if they had Elizabeth's favorite (sadly discontinued) shampoo bar. They had a big stack of them. They also had a demo of the bubble bar going, using the Karma bar. It was intoxicating. So much so that I bought a jar of Karma Cream even though I still have a half a jar of CO Bigelow Lemon Cream! The Karma Cream is fabulous, rich, and fragrant. Elizabeth was thrilled when I called her about the shampoo bars.
This little errand qualified me for a free glitter bar, for use on the hair. I'm really glad that I tried it out in the privacy of my own home rather than in the bathroom at work before going out. I stupidly rubbed it directly on my head, dumping an amount of glitter on my scalp that would make David Bowie weep. A shower and a bath later, I still have glitter in my hair.

I was having a shitty day at work, feeling a little sorry for myself, when I got an unexpected phone call. A couple of weeks ago, I sold tickets to a former dancer who hadn't been to the ballet in the decade since his retirement. We had a fabulous conversation and he expressed an interest in meeting me, which is always a little awkward. Unfortunately, our paths didn't cross at the ballet, but he called to thank me. He loved his seat, loved the ballet, and had so much gratitude. That type of feedback is rare in my work. His phone call really turned my day around.

Yesterday, I was driving home from the train station, listening to some Frank Sinatra on the stereo when a woman began frantically honking at me. Fortunately, I restrained from any rude gestures. She alerted me of my flat tire, which I had somehow not noticed when approaching the car in the parking lot. This was on a busy street, so I decided to limp the two blocks to the next gas station to address the problem there. As soon as the woman pulled away, a man pulled up next to me and started honking. He seemed so upset by my blase reaction to the news. Who could expect two good samaritans in a row? I pulled into the gas station and saw no obvious holes, nails, etc. in the tire, so decided to reinflate it. The tire held air overnight, so the cause of the flat remains a mystery.

The Round Up

What have I been up to lately? Besides working six days a week?
Well, in no particular order, I have seen the following things:
* The Pillowman, at Steppenwolf. Highly disturbing, excellent work. The short stories within the play are amazing. A very Steppenwolf show.
* The Queen, a new film by Stephen Frears, starring Helen Mirren. Superb acting and directing, matched with sharp, sharp writing. I went to a special screening at the Chicago International Film Festival, which prompted me to re-order my Netflix list.
* The Handyman, a French romantic comedy. I didn't set out to see this film. I bought a ticket to The Page Turner, but the print was held up in customs. Instead, the powers that be at CIFF decided to substitute The Handyman. They're both from France, but of remarkably different theme and tone. A charming film with a terrible, arbitrary ending.
* Cinderella, by Sir Frederick Ashton, danced by the Joffrey Ballet. Twice. Beautiful, fabulous stuff. The first time around, I saw the all-star, dream cast. Second time, younger dancers in the principle roles. It was interesting to compare artistic choices and abilities. I sat in the front of the orchestra section the first time and back in the dress circle the second time, which was useful for future reference in seating. I love my season seats (in the orchestra section); I saw a lot of detail and texture that wasn't clear from further back. The dress circle, however, is much better for watching patterns in the corps, which were a bit muddy at times. I'm not entirely sure if that was the dancing or the choreography. Still, a wonderful time had by all.
* Vigils, at the Goodman. I saw the first preview tonight. It's a funny show, but it's hard to judge a show so early in the run. I'm sure that it will be tighter by the time opening rolls around.
What else is going on, you ask. Well, I still haven't finished that raglan sweater, though it is definitely sweater weather in Chicago now. Perhaps tomorrow... I dropped a small fortune at the Lush store this week, in a Crimbo present spree. Oh, and I'm stalking my shipment of yarn from the lovely folks at Webs via UPS tracking. That site is addictive. So, I've got lots of knitting and pampered skin planned. I've also got tickets for King Lear next week at the Goodman.

Canada, Oh

My trip to Canada was brilliant. Not without its low moments, but generally fabulous. Included in this post are a few photographs I took in Montreal.
Unfortunately, there was only one day of good light for the Holga. Still, one is better than none, and that day included a trip to one of the Catholic cathedrals. I haven't processed that yet, but expect good things.
Elizabeth and I hadn't seen each other since summer stock last year, so I was really looking forward to seeing her again. As far as I am concerned, she can travel with me any time that she wants.
Montreal is considered by many Americans to be very European, and by Europeans to be terribly American. Well, I don't know about that. It's a very chic city, where everyone wears artfully tied scarves. Elizabeth and I both bought several scarves. Many of the buildings have strange second floor entrances and beautiful wrought ironwork similar to that of the Vieux Carre in New Orleans. If you paid attention in history class, you may recall that many Acadians fled to Louisiana during the colonial period. It's always interesting to see the signs of things like that.
Many people in Montreal also speak English. If you have an anglo accent or any kind of linguistic stumble, they will switch languages. This frustrated me greatly. I wanted to speak French, but found English to be quite the crutch in Montreal. I wanted to flex my linguistic muscle, as I had to when I was in France. Elizabeth does not speak French, and asked the meaning of various signs. The signs invariably included words that I don't know (it's the same language as much as we speak the same language as the English). The one that really drove me nuts was l'erable. It was everywhere, and I'd never seen it before. Well, that would be a very Canadian word, I thought once I realized its meaning. L'erable means maple. They're just falling over maple this, that, and the other in Canada. After seeing the first vibrant red leaves in Mount Royal park, though, I can understand why it is so iconic.
There were two things that made the whole trip worthwhile: the Chinese Lantern Festival at Les Jardins Botaniques and a Pink Martini concert at the Place des Arts. Elizabeth advised going up to the gardens before the weather changed, so we saw the lanterns on the last day of summer. We couldn't have planned it better. The gardens are high above the city, next to the Olympic Stadium, with a breathtaking view. We had just enough time to stroll through the gardens before dusk. The lanterns really popped as the light left the sky. I'd expected generic, round lanterns, but the gardens had all sorts of shapes and sizes, hand-painted, made to look like ducks, swans, long boats, and many other surprising figures. Naturally, the only photo I was able to take is of the most boring lantern there, in one of the Chinese pavilions.
Pink Martini was amazing. The Place des Arts is similar to Lincoln Center, but all inside, linked to the Metro station of the same name. It seemed a very well laid-out complex. They even had custom paint jobs on the lighting instruments to make them blend into the beige acoustical treatments. The audience was lively, large, and mostly French-speaking. The band spoke French, with charming mistakes, between songs. I hadn't noticed before then how adorable the pianist in Pink Martini is. He got quite the reception! I'd just seen Pink Martini at the Barbican in March, but this was a very different experience. The crowd in Montreal was more engaged. They clapped sooner and more accurately. They also gave two standing ovations. I can't wait until their next album comes out.
Generally, Montreal is pretty cool. They ask if you want to have separate checks straight away in restaurants, so you don't have to ask. The make-up ladies at The Bay on Ste. Catherine rock. One of them told Elizabeth that she looked as though she'd just come in from playing outside while trying on blush. Everything must be labeled in French, making our trip to the Lush store especially novel. My canister of dusting powder has no English translation, but it does have a creepy pic of some guy named Graeme who works there. There are a lot of cool vintage stores and used book/record stores. We stayed in the Plateau, quite near Mt. Royal, so we had many to choose from nearby. Our cabbie even pointed out a place to score drugs and gave an explanation of the local drug laws on the way to our auberge!
I don't know if I will return to Montreal, but it seems like a great place. I think that I might like to explore other parts of Canada, like the Atlantic Coast and maybe out west. I'd love to be able to pick up Canadian magazines like Maclean's at the local B&N. Their writing is so sharp and fearless in a manner that has largely disappeared in the mainstream press here. And Canadian humor and advertising is so fab. The weird beavers for Bell, the funny posters for the birth control ring on the wall in the ladies' room... maybe they seem cool because we don't see them all the time. Or maybe all those additional years in the Commonwealth really paid off for our neighbors to the north.

Okay, I have a lot to catch up on. Since my last post, I've done a few exciting things, like start a new job (in addition to the "old" job), leave the country, give away a hand-knit sweater, and attend an amazing concert.
The little things first:
*I lost the laser etched shell buttons that I bought for my RYC raglan sweater, so I had to go back up to the Mag Mile to buy more. This time, I took the bus instead of wearing myself out walking. Wearing the sweater sans buttons just wouldn't work and was silly in an unfortunate, 1980s fashion.
*I have very little free time. I know, I used to say that when I was only working one gig, but I work six days a week now. This has cut into my knitting a bit. However, I like the new job, which is remarkably similar to the old job, but in a better working atmosphere. Oh, and I get loads of comps and discounts!
*I gave away the cotton cardigan, with which I had a love/hate relationship. I loved the pattern, but hated the sagging under the arms. Not flattering. Also, the button band did something funny when it was buttoned. I planned to give it to Elizabeth, who is a few inches taller than I am. Perhaps the underarm seam would hit her in the right place, I thought. Well, it turns out that the sweater fits my mother. Fits her like it was made for her. Perhaps that will cut down on hints to make a sweater for her (usually along the lines of "her daughter made her a sweater". Knitting guilt trips aren't pretty). I'm glad that it worked out well for someone, because the whole thing left me in an Eeyore mood. Still, I'd like to make one for myself, since I loved the yarn and style. This time, I'll make sure that it will fit me!
*Have you heard about Lush? They're a really cool handmade cosmetics company. Elizabeth piqued my interest by bringing along Lush Times to read on the train, soon followed by a trip to their store on Ste. Catherine in Montreal. Cool products, great attitude. Highly recommended.
*I am a red lipstick convert. Does this mean that I am a trend slave? I dunno. I used to think it too vampish and extreme with my pale skin, but was won over by the fact that red lipstick doesn't need much else. It's classic. It doesn't need five layers of MAC eyeshadow artfully blended together, just some mascara and maybe 1950s film star eyeliner. So I bought some at The Bay and looove it.
*The emergency last minute gift scarf was finished on the way to Toronto. I even wove in all the ends on the train. Of course, now the emergency has evaporated. Still, it's good to have an item for the old (empty) gift drawer.
*Willie Nelson busted with un grand sac de marijuana. Also, the pope is Catholic.
*I also really love scarves right now. Not necessarily knitted ones, but also stripey, cotton voile ones that can be wrapped or tied dozens of different ways. Oh, and I've got a vintage plaid one that I tie jauntily in the style of a first class stewardess.
*For some incomprehensible reason, The New Yorker wants to charge me $5 more to renew my subscription than the blown in cards offer for new subscribers. How exactly is that fair? I know $5 isn't a lot of money, but it does rankle me. At the same time, I am unlikely to give up The New Yorker.
*I've really fallen behind on listening to the episodes of my favorite podcast, Cast-On. It's about knitting, naturally. I love the podcast, the author is really entertaining; I don't know what has caused me to lag behind. I used to listen to it eagerly on the train to work on Saturday mornings. Lately, it's been too noisy on the train, what with the forced air (heat or AC, you never know which it will be) and endless cell phone conversations and boisterous children. I sound like such a curmudgeon! Yes, I use my cell phone in public. Maybe now that the trains have a family car the other issue will be less frequent. We'll see.
*The bigger stuff I'll save for another post. Sorry.

I googled myself, which is a completely vain endeavor, I know. There wasn't a single result that pointed to me. I don't know how I feel about that. I don't have a Paris Hiltonish need for fame, but I was a little surprised. Maybe it's time to renew my professional listings. Of course, that would imply that I'm doing anything in my chosen field.
My last post generated the offer of a camera (yay!) and fatherly advice to switch browsers. Well, I am using Firefox now, having finally lost patience with Safari. The jury is still out. Yes, there are some websites that I can visit that wouldn't work with Safari, and I have more options in my Blogger dashboard. I am having some serious problems with the windows involved in updating the aforementioned listings. Maybe I will have to use Safari for some things and Firefox for others.
I have been dragging lately. Part of this is sleep deprivation. I stay up way too late. Clearly, my chosen profession matches my sleep schedule. Except lately, I've had a lot of need for early mornings. Well, I haven't needed them, but they've happened. Please, please, please do not ever call me before ten AM unless you are certain that I will be awake. I cannot have an intelligent conversation when I am awakened by a phone call. Also, it doesn't generate a lot of goodwill towards the caller.
The local PBS and NPR stations are in their usual fundraising fervor. I appreciate that they are heavily dependent on charity for their operating expenses. I work for an arts non-profit; I understand. Still, I am a little disgusted with the way they go about it. They're trying to come up with 10% of their annual expenses by the end of the month. That scares me on their behalf, even though it creates excellent urgency. Note that it doesn't scare me enough to send them any money. I've been off the local PBS lately. Their programming has changed its focus away from my interests (adaptations of Willa Cather novels, all things British, WWII histories, et al). Or maybe my interests have changed. One of my coworkers asked me today if I had read an article in the NY Times yesterday. I used to read the Sunday Times every week, in a ritual that would put those high church types to shame. I read it all, worked the crossword for hours, and drank heaps of tea or coffee, depending on the weather. I don't think that I've read the Sunday Times in over a year. What happened? When did my life become so quotidien? I have more interesting occurrences, but not regular ones, than I did back then. I've got a lot more stamps in my passport these days, but the every day has gotten to be so dull.
Speaking of dull, I'm making scarves again. Since I haven't done them in so long, the monotony of the knitting feels refreshing. Zen like, really. I don't have to pay attention to a 1x1 rib scarf. I don't have to count stitches or make any armholes. There's nothing challenging. Next I will complain about how I do not challenge myself. I made a great, hard to photograph scarf for my cousin Stephen. He doesn't read this blog, so I needn't worry about removing the element of surprise. The scarf is a 1x1 ribbed scarf, fifteen stitches wide, with slipped stitch edges, knit on size seventeen needles. I am quite pleased with the combination of Manos yarn, in the Bing Cherry color, and luscious dark brown Blue Sky Alpaca Alpaca and Silk yarn. The brown of the alpaca yarn really pops the cherry tones in the Manos, as well as lending it a tweedy, masculine look. I've got a skein of each left over, so I could make an identical scarf for someone unlikely to run into Stephen. As Stephen lives in London, the list is rather long.
I'm working on a similar scarf now (no picture to prevent later recognition by intended recipient) in Malabrigo and Madil Kid Seta. The Malabrigo is in the Emerald Green colorway, and the mohair a punchy, light citrus green. Held together, they have a lemon lime effect. Many knitters substitute Malabrigo for Manos, as they're both hand dyed South American wools. After working these projects back to back, I don't see many other similarities. They're both gorgeous, but the yarns are made from completely different types of wool. Manos del Uruguay is a sturdier yarn, though given to more dramatic thick and thin variations. Malabrigo is very loosely spun, more like Lamb's Pride, and it's just dying to felt. I'll still knit with it again. I've got a fair amount of it stashed away for another Classy Drug Rug (for me, I'm not feeling very charitable about sweater knitting these days). All this scarf knitting allows me to procrastinate a little on finishing the RYC raglan sweater. My mother gave me a quick crochet lesson when I was dead tired, so that's no longer an issue. I've even got the sleeves and placket sewn to the body. Next is that crocheted edging and knitting the neckline ribbing. Not rocket science, but the project isn't exactly portable now that it's 95% of a garment.
Well, I promised myself I'd go to bed by one AM tonight, so I am going to sign off for now. You can insert your own Cinderella joke here.

Things are almost done with the Jemima raglan sweater, by Anna Bell. I was feeling pretty smug until I read the instructions for the placket. Yes, I know that I should read the entire pattern before I start. I scanned it, so I missed the crochet part. You see, I don't crochet, so I tried to con my mom into doing it. She saw through my ploy. Well, I'm thinking of doing an i-cord edging instead, incorporating buttonholes, but have also emailed the designer for her advice. Will keep you updated.
So, I'm back on the Suss Fishnet wrap top. It looks like I'm knitting a blanket. It feels like I'm knitting a blanket. The top is knit from side to side, with very long sides to be tied in the front. I've knit eighteen inches so far, and am nowhere near the armhole. Sigh. I know that if I start a new project now, these two will idle for some time. Also, the desired project uses the needles on which the Suss wonder currently resides. Not that that's stopped me before, but it is a bit of a deterrent. I'd post a pic, but every time that I try, Safari crashes.
I'm tired. I walked all the way up to Oak Street (and beyond the end of Mag Mile) yesterday, to go to a button shop. That's a long walk. Well, walking there was not bad. Walking back was awful. I got some beautiful laser etched buttons and did some window shopping at Anthropologie, Urban Outfitters, and a chi-chi travel store. The travel store had a Holga kit, which was very cool. I've been thinking of taking a Holga with me on my trip, to do all kinds of arty images of old Montreal and all of the churches. Well, I'm not going to buy it there. They wanted $80 for it. The camera retails for $22.50. So their roll of tape, single roll of film, and instruction manual are worth $57.50? Ha! The whole day left me feeling cranky and curmudgeonly. The air show was this weekend, so there were hordes of people walking around the city. Also, loads of amateurs making a racket on the train, so it wasn't the restful trip that I needed at the end of that walk. I don't care if you don't ride the train regularly, you should know that swinging from the railing and standing on the armrests, straddling the aisle is not cool. Maybe I'm still feeling a little cranky.