Sunday, August 31, 2008

Scrubba Scrubba


I love soap.

Wonderful beautiful quality soap.

Such a good thing.

I luv it when bars of soap are called
'cakes' of soap (must be the food reference).

Fresh new bars of high-quality soap are a delight to the senses.
Scented or unscented.
Some are organic, rough around the edges and resemble blocks of cheese.
Others are smooth and polished.

French Triple-Milled soap is my favourite.

I'm excited to use a hunk of handmade soap with a rustic look. Or opening a brand new cake of the triple-milled stuff.
( I especially like the round soaps that are wrapped in that crispy parchment like paper....).


New cakes of soap.
Smoothly silken or textural and bumpy.
Shiny or dull.
All are full of sudsy promise.

Lather up with a cake of French-Milled soap, and the daily routine of hand and body washing becomes an absolutely luxurious experience.
We can all use a touch of sensuousness in our day, no?

Mmmmmmmmm.
What I really mean to say is Yummmmmmmmmmm.

Friday, August 22, 2008

GUFFAW!!!


Yours truly crawled out from under her rock yesterday to 'go to the movies'.
I was getting pretty impatient with the fifteen minutes of coming attractions until this ad came up on the big screen.

I'm guessing everyone (and their mother) knows of the E*Trade Baby, but this was my first viewing. Sometimes it really does feel like I don't get out much.
I certainly don't watch much TV.
To be sure, I don't watch SuperBowl.

At the end of the commercial...in the relative silence of the movie theater...with a few dozen moviegoers seated nearby...
I....
GUFFAWED.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

The Saga of the Boxy Lady Sweater

C'est fini!

I've been inspired by a friend who takes advantage of the more leisurely months of summer as a time to finish her UFOs = UnFinished (knitting) Objects.

UFOs are items not yet completed (more often, abandoned) from the previous year of knitting. More often than not, UFOs are often responsible for Knitter's Guilt.
(Another major source of Knitter's Guilt is Knitter's Yarn Stash)

Like my friend, I too have a stash of UFOs looming like a dark cloud over my knit conscience. This summer, I too planned to complete a few, if not all, of them.

Smaller, less complicated to finish UFOs came out of the back of the art n' craft closet first. A little tote bag and a couple of felted pincushions. HaHa. Done.
Super gratifying.

Next: the (dreaded) UFO sweaters.
Pictured above is the easier of the two UFO sweaters (yes, I will probably bore you with the second nightmarish one in a future post). I started this one ...gosh, who can remember how long ago. It's been 3 or 4, maybe even 5 years since casting on?
Not bad. Not good either.

Anyways.

At the very start of this project, I was heady with anticipation of a homey hand knit-by- me sweater as the end result of much labor - which, for me - always seems to include blood, sweat and (this might be my trademark in the creative process...) tears.

The ingredients were assembled: well-spun wool yarn (in a deep wine color, tweedy and heathery with black throughout), a simple classic pullover sweater pattern, high quality knitting needles.

My knit mojo was fired up and raring to go.

I blissfully knitted through the first section of the sweater - confident of a quick n' easy start to finish project. HaHa. That should have been my first clue: being overly confident at the get go. It's never that easy, is it?

No sooner was the first section near completion when the otherwise straightforward pattern instructions turned on me by introducing something called 'short rows'.

Huh?
Whaaaaa?
A brand new knit term for me.
I eagerly set down to learn this technique.

Struggling with the directions on how to knit short rows, it wasn't long before I realized that I just couldn't manage it.
'Hide the wrap'?!?? Where?!? The whole short row thing frustrated me more than any other knitting obstacle ever had. I asked fellow knitters. They tried to show me. I couldn't get it. It simply can't be done.
At least not right now and not by me.

Oh well.
Try try try again later. In time, the whole short row thing will come to me...won't it?

Rather than stop knitting the sweater altogether, I cast on for the other front and two back pieces and knitted them all up to the point before having to make those short rows. I then committed cardinal knitter's sin #211: I lost interest. Abandoned the project. Bid it good riddance with a hey nonny nonny.

I brown-paper-bagged it, along with an exclamation of 'to hell with short rows!'

On to new knitting ventures!

Then the inevitable.
UFO / Knitter's Guilt caught up with me.
Some months ago, I finally got my head wrapped around the concept of short rows (it really isn't that hard)(It's all about timing when it comes to learning some things). Since I'd made a commitment to 'finish the UFOs during the summer', I boldly rescued aforementioned UFO sweater from the black hole of abandoned projects.

Onward!

Typically, I have no idea where I left off on any UFO. In addition, I've forgotten the 'rhythm' of that particular knit project. Every handicraft has its own pace, flavor and beat. You get into the rhythm and move through it. It's 'being in the zone'.
Those breaks in the momentum are tough to reconcile when one goes back to a long forgotten UFO.

Tip: It behooves all knitters to jot down comments right on the instruction pattern as to 'this is where I left off' and 'needs 1" more here', etc.. These are reminders to oneself so that going back to an abandoned UFO isn't quite so daunting.

OK, get back into the groove. Make a sweater happen out of this mess.

Next challenge: trying to determine if this sweater was going to fit me after all.
Uh-Oh. I'd almost forgotten that this thing not fitting me was a good, to very good - possibility.

Each individual sweater section I'd knitted thus far seemed destined to remain curled and furled (stockinette stitch tends to roll in at the edges). Getting all four pieces to lie flat so I could determine size/fit was quite the unwieldy task. Worst of all, the whole sweater was looking - kinda small.
Granted, I was smaller when this sweater was begun, but I also neglected to knit a swatch, so don't know if I was knitting it smaller or larger than the correct gauge (cardinal knitter's sin #1)

Unwilling to admit defeat just yet, I knitted on (yep, those short rows). So far, so good. Next, I boldly (quite brazenly and with wild abandon) sewed the pieces together (with yarn).

After sides, fronts and underarms were seamed and all loose ends woven in, the pullover was looking pretty gnarly.

Hmmmmmm.
It was finished, but unblocked. (blocking a sweater makes all the difference between OMG it's so ugly > to > Hey! Not bad! It even looks like a sweater now!

I tried it on.
It fit poorly.
It looked BAD (not as in good bad, but bad bad).

Not to be undone, I blocked it. Pretty aggressively. The submerge-fully-in-water-and-squeeze-out method.

Oh goody.
After blocking, the sweater looked considerably better.
Whilst laying flat on the drying towel, it looked downright GREAT.

After it dried, I tried it on again.
It still fit me poorly.

The shape of the sweater is boxy like the pattern is designed to be.
Why did I not remember that 'boxy' doesn't suit me?
Is it because the woman modeling the sweater in the knit magazine was slim, thin and
long-waisted (and in her early 20's)?
I'm not slim, thin or long-waisted (nor am I in my early 20's).
What was I thinkin' ?!?

Damn.
Foiled again.

Crap.
Shite.
Ptui.
Groan.

...

On to new knitting ventures!

Monday, August 18, 2008

Don't need it...


...but I want it.

Yep.
In spite of the ongoing purge/reorganization of my personal belongings aka 'Stuff', it's still difficult (not always, but at times) to ignore glossy color ads for New Stuff To Buy.

Though I can successfully bypass the latest in technics, cars and clothing; new titles in books: well, that is another matter altogether.

A soon to be released book speaks to my obsession with All Things History of the Wild West (real or imagined).

Granted, 'The Wild West Catalog' appears the quintessential coffee table offering, replete with pretty close-up photos and a minimum amount of text.
However, the appeal of history-in-a-nutshell combined with glossy pictures has me salivating for a looksee and/or a must have it - will buy it.

Regarding books, my mind has been a bit fatigued lately from 'too many books on the bedside table syndrome'.

Long, slow but enjoyable reads of late include 'Mayflower' (Nathaniel Philbrick), 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn' (Betty Smith) and 'Girl With a Pearl Earring' (Tracy Chevalier). 'Girl...' is a re-read for this month's book group. What makes reading so tough going for me is that I don't read one book at a time. My tendency is simultaneous reads. A few pages of this book one night, another few pages of that book the next.
Yes, it does lead to moments of plot confusion! Doh!

Can you believe?
I'm still reading (and just about done) 'Two Years Before the Mast'. I can only handle being at sea for a few pages at a time. A might waterlogged, I'm still happy to be along on Richard Henry Dana's journey. It's another adventurous as well as significant first person historical narrative on the opening of the American west. Aha. Recurring theme....
Although most of the nautical terms in 'Two Years...' aren't familiar to me, I've been savouring every word.

Back to the aforementioned book I don't need - given another 6 months, it's likely 'The Wild West Catalog' will be found on a big box book seller sale table for %%% off.

Hmmmmmm.....

%%% off speaks to another of my obsessions: Good-Stuff-at-Cheap-Prices.

You can bet that I'll be keeping a watchful eye out for it.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Old School


When I was a kid, the start of the school year always, but always, coincided with Labor Day. The first day of school was the day after Labor Day Weekend.

Back-to-School month = September.
We're talking tradition here.

Not that I have to, but I simply can't get used to this beginning to mid-August start of the new school year thing. It just don't seem right to me.

This morning, I saw kids all dressed in their new school clothes - complete with brand new backpacks - as they waited on the corner for the school bus.
I sez to myself, I sez 'Whaaaaat?!? It's still the middle of SUMMER!'

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Truth be known...

My fo' real true taste in furniture/architecture...

...is not Victorian Georgian or Queen Anne.
...is not English Cottage.
...is not Asian Feng-Shui Persuasion.
...is not Mid-Century Moderne.
...is not Cabin-In-The-Woods.
...is not the Eclectic Mix of my actual home.

It IS Cartoon-ish Architecture.
It IS Cartoon-ish Furniture.

Heavy on the whimsy.

The future of decorating Memory #1:
Playland-at-the-Beach, San Francisco. There was a frieze of little fake house fronts atop the rides and concessions that I used to stare at longingly. Concentrating very hard, thinking that if I wished it, those fake fronts would turn into real mini houses. I spent far too many minutes and hours wishing it could be possible to shrink down and enter one of those little doors or open one of those tiny windows and climb into welcoming rooms...

The future of decorating Memory #2:
During the same era (1950's-60's), Children's FairyLand in Oakland had child-size structures built to represent fairy tale dwellings (even the Old Woman In the Shoe's shoe!!). Kids could climb onto, run around, and sometimes even GO INTO these little buildings. The furniture inside was built in/fastened down, of course. Some could be played upon, others visible through open windows, but inaccessible. Such restrictions never took away from the fun I derived from fantasizing about the day (soon) of being able to live in one of these play houses.

Guess what.
It's still possible to indulge my childhood appreciation for the cattywompus, curvy, organic shapes of cartoony architecture. Ain't that sweet?

Case in point: the design of the buildings in Disney's 'Mickey's TuneTown'. Mickey and Minnie's homes sport the same curvilinear lines of fantasy design: windows, doors, chairs, tables, lamps, curtains, kitchen appliances, piano, shelves....all built in disproportionate sizes (to real people) and all slightly askew. Lines that should be straight - are not. Curves are exaggerated. Colors wild.

If you've been on the Pinocchio ride in Disneyland, you might recall the vignette of Gepetto's workshop/home, with all the cuckoo clocks tic-tocking away. Vibrant colors. Warm, inviting curves and arcs. Even the lighting is happy.
Toooooo cute!!!
Every dang time I see that 'cartoon room' - I fight the urge to jump off the ride and LIVE there.

Just when I thought the only possible venues to enjoy playful shapes in 'furnishings' and architecture are to be found at amusement parks (even Vegas offers little to nothing in the way of cartoonish design), I happen upon this website.

Sooooooo cooooool!

Another example of my beloved fantasy aesthetic: fave characters from Disney's 'Fantasia' are (no, not the cute little toadstool-mushrooms, but) the mops and brooms (though they do become a tad nightmarish in the film).